UC-NRLF 


FARM 


CON  RAD  I 

AND 

THOMAS 


FARM   SPIES 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO  •   DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •   SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY  •    CALCUTTA 
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THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


FARM   SPIES 

HOW  THE   BOYS   INVESTIGATED   FIELD 
CROP   INSECTS 


BY 


A.   F.   CONRADI 

PROFESSOR   OF    ENTOMOLOGY,    CLEMSON    AGRICULTURAL 
COLLEGE 

AND 

W.   A.   THOMAS 

ASSOCIATE    PROFESSOR    OF    ENTOMOLOGY,    CLEMSON 
AGRICULTURAL    COLLEGE 


gork 

THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1916 

All  rights  reserved 


QIFt 


COPYRIGHT,  1916, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  September,  1916. 


,  DEFT, 


Noriuooti 

J.  8.  Cashing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO    THE    LATE 
COL.  E.  W.  SIMPSON 

PENDLETON,  S.C. 

IN    RECOGNITION    OF    HIS    WISE    COUNSEL    AND    HIS 
UNSELFISH    DEVOTION    TO    THIS    CAUSE 


445098 


FOREWORD 

IN  our  work  with  boys  and  girls  in  the  public 
schools  and  with  college  students  in  agriculture  we 
have  found  that  the  greatest  interest  was  taken  in 
subjects  that  answered  the  following  question, 
"  What  am  I  going  to  do  with  it  ?  "  They  are  not 
satisfied  with  the  life  history  and  habits  of  insects 
unless  the  methods  are  explained  by  which  they 
may  be  controlled,  provided  the  methods  given  are 
practical. 

The  stories  in  this  book  are  written  for  the  boys 
and  girls  and  for  those  persons  who  know  nothing 
about  insects  and  how  to  fight  them.  The  authors 
have  tried  to  write  them  in  simple  language  and 
no  attempt  has  been  made  at  exhaustive  discus- 
sions. The  control  measures  have  been  confined 
to  such  as  may  be  readily  employed  by  any  one 
troubled  by  the  insects  treated.  Though  the  arti- 
cles have  been  written  in  story  form  to  assist  the 
teacher  and  parent  to  interest  the  child,  the  facts 


Vll 


Vlll  FOREWORD 

in  regard  to  insects  are  correct,  while  nearly  every 
incident  mentioned  has  at  some  time  or  other  come 
within  the  experience  of  the  authors. 

The  articles  are  action  stories  and  the  figures  as 
far  as  practicable  represent  action.  It  has  been 
the  aim  to  make  each  story  sufficiently  complete 
to  give  the  reader  a  clear  view  and  a  working 
knowledge  of  the  subject.  The  same  plan  of  pres- 
entation is  not  adhered  to  in  order  to  avoid  mo- 
notony. Plans  for  investigating  insects  have  been 
embodied  in  a  few  of  the  articles  to  enable  the 
child  to  understand  how  the  facts  were  obtained. 

The  boys  and  girls  constitute  the  greatest  asset 
in  our  national  life.  There  is  no  greater  force  on 
earth  available  by  which  we  can  induce  parents  to 
adopt  better  practices  than  the  boys  and  girls.  In 
shaping  our  agriculture  for  the  future  the  progress 
made  will  be  in  direct  proportion  to  the  extent  to 
which  we  can  interest  them. 

In  the  preparation  of  these  stories  we  are  in- 
debted to  the  work  and  writings  of  entomologists 
past  and  present.  Especially  helpful  has  been  the 
work  of  the  Sections  of  Southern  Field  Crop  In- 
sects, and  Cereal  and  Forage  Crop  Insects,  Bureau 
of  Entomology,  U.S.  Department  of  Agriculture ; 
Dr.  W.  E.  Hinds,  Entomologist,  Alabama  Experi- 
ment Station,  and  Dr.  S.  A.  Forbes,  State  Ento- 
mologist of  Illinois.  A  number  of  the  illustrations 


I 

FOREWORD  ix 

were   obtained   from  various   sources,   due    credit 
being  given  in  each  case. 

In  the  preparation  of  the  manuscript  and  a 
number  of  negatives  the  authors  are  indebted  to 
Mrs.  A.  F.  Conradi  for  valuable  assistance. 

A.  F.  C. 
W.  A.  T. 

CLEMSON  COLLEGE:,  S.C. 
June  1,  1916. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 

PAOB 

THE  BOLL-WEEVIL 1 

THE  BLACK  BILL-BUG  OF  CORN    .        .        .        .        .        .23 

WHEN  CORN  is  FOX-EARED 43 

THE  BLACK  CORN-WEEVIL 56 

GRASSHOPPERS 79 

CHINCH-BUGS •        •        •        •     105 

THE  COTTON  ROOT-LOUSE .126 

WINDFALLS  OF  CORN     .        . 146 


FARM    SPIES 

THE   BOLL-WEEVIL 
A  GREAT  FIGHT  TO  SAVE  THE  COTTON 

MANY  years  ago  the  Southern  soil  was  ruled  by  a 
king  whose  name  was  Cotton.  Not  only  did  he 
rule  the  soil,  but  the  people  also,  because  there  was 
no  other  cultivated  plant  on  the  farm  so  abundant 
as  cotton.  The  people  depended  on  the  cotton- 
crop  for  their  money  with  which  to  buy  food,  cloth- 
ing, and  other  things  they  needed  or  wanted.  Peo- 
ple, for  that  reason,  spoke  of  the  cotton-plant  as 
King  Cotton. 

One  day  Mr.  Corn  visited  the  South  and  saw  how 
much  the  people  loved  cotton,  and  no  matter  in  what 
direction  he  looked  he  saw  nothing  but  cotton, 
cotton,  cotton.  "I  never  saw  anything  to  beat 
this/'  Corn  said  to  himself.  "  People  are  surely  in- 
terested in  Cotton,  and  no  other  cultivated  plant  seems 
to  have  a  chance  on  the  farms  down  here  because 
no  one  believes  that  there  is  anything  so  good  as 
Cotton.  I  do  not  see  how  this  can  go  on  much 
longer.  I  know  it  does  not  do  in  my  section  of  the 
B  1 


FARM  SPIES 


country,  where  Corn  is  a  great  crop,  and  I  believe 
I  will  speak  to  Cotton  about  it  sometime." 

One  day  King  Cotton  and  Mr.  Corn  were  walking 
down  the  street  together  talking  to  each  other. 

"  People  surely  love  you  in  this  section  of  the 


FIG.  1.  —  "People  are  surely  interested  in  cotton." 

country/7  said  Mr.  Corn  to  King  Cotton.  This 
pleased  the  king,  and  he  smiled  and  answered, 
"Yes,  that  is  true,  and  they  have  every  reason  to 
feel  proud  of  me,  and  all  my  fellow-plants.  If  it 
were  not  for  me,  the  people  would  have  to  starve. 


THE  BOLL-WEEVIL  3 

This  is  surely  my  country,  and  no  other  plant  need 
ever  try  to  get  started  here,  ahem!!" 

King  Cotton  had  said  this  in  such  a  haughty  way 
that  it  made  Mr.  Corn  angry,  and  he  replied  : 
?Mt  seems  to  me  you  are  taking  a  great  risk." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  King  Cotton  asked  gruffly. 

"To  grow  nothing  but  cotton  over  such  a  large 
area  as  the  cotton-belt  must  sooner  or  later  make 
more  cotton  than  the  people  can  use,  and  when  that 
happens  the  cotton  will  bring  a  very  poor  price ; 
it  would  be  a  bad  thing  when  so  many  people  depend 
on  it  for  their  living.  Now  look  at  it  in  another 
way :  year  after  year  you  have  the  same  kind  of 
plant  growing  on  the  same  soil,  and  all  the  plants 
eating  the  same  kind  of  food ;  this  must  be  starv- 
ing the  soil.  You  are  taking  plant-food  from  those 
soils  without  putting  any  back.  I  don't  care  how 
much  money  a  boy  has  in  his  bank,  if  he  keeps  tak- 
ing away  day  after  day  without  putting  any  back, 
his  bank  wrill  become  empty  in  spite  of  what  he  may 
think  about  it.  Will  the  crop  ever  fail?  It  is 
possible  that  the  cotton-crop  may  fail  some  bad  sea- 
son, and  then  how  are  the  people  going  to  make  a 
living  till  another  crop  can  be  made  ?  In  my  coun- 
try the  farmers  always  have  more  than  one  crop, 
so  if  one  or  the  other  should  fail  they  will  not  suffer 
an  entire  loss." 

While  Mr.  Corn  was  talking,  King  Cotton  looked 


FARM  SPIES 


Sit  him  as  if  he  was  angry  enough  to  bite  him.  Then 
he  scolded  Mr.  Corn,  saying:  "It  seems  to  me  you 
are  taking  a  great  risk  talking  to  me  the  way  you 
do,  but  a  big  and  powerful  king  like  me  would  call 

your  talk  only 
childish  prattle. 
Do  you  not  know 
that  my  tern- 
tory  extends  from 
ocean  to  ocean 
and  from  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico 
northward  half- 
way across  the 
United  States  ? 
I  and  my.  coun- 
try are  known 
the  world  over. 
Every  year  I 
furnish  food  for 
millions,  build 
railroads,  high- 
ways, and  water- 
ways. During 
my  reign  not  an  enemy  appeared  in  the  cotton- 
fields  that  did  not  soon  become  very  sorry  for 
having  come,  because  we  whipped  every  one  of  them. 
When  the  cotton-leaf  worm  came  he  thought  that 


(From  Bur.  ofEnt.,  U.  S.  Dept.  ofAgr.) 

FIG.  2.  —  "He  thought  that  he  was  the  biggest 
bug  on  earth." 


THE  BOLI^WEEVIL  5 

he  was  the  biggest  bug  on  earth,  but  he  did  not 
stay  with  us  long  because  he  said  that  the  Paris 
green  we  treated  him  to  was  a  little  too  strong  for 
his  stomach,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ahem !  And  he  was 
mighty  careful  about  coming  again.  I  do  not  see 
what  on  earth  could  be  strong  enough  to  force  me 
to  take  notice  of  it." 

When  they  came  to  the  cross-road  they  parted, 
and  as  Mr.  Corn  was  walking  along  one  road  he  said 
to  himself,  "That  Cotton  has  the  big-head  and 
there  is  no  doubt  about  it.  He  is  just  a  big  egotist, 
and  that's  what  he  is.  So  far  he  has  had  fairly 
good  luck,  but  I  have  never  yet  seen  a  road  that  does 
not  turn  sometime.7' 

At  the  same  time  King  Cotton,  walking  along 
another  road,  was  scolding  in  an  undertone  :  "  Doesn't 
Corn  think  he  is  somebody  ?  The  idea  !  —  trying 
to  tell  me  what  to  do.  If  he  ever  gets  as  big  and 
powerful  as  I,  then  he  will  not  have  time  to 
listen  to  such  childish  prattle  as  he  was  giving 
me." 

In  the  year  1892  the  road  turned.  Sometime 
during  that  year  there  came  across  the  Rio  Grande 
river  a  veteran  army  of  many  wars.  Fifty  years 
ago  their  ancestors  had  fought  King  Cotton  in 
Mexico,  and,  it  is  said,  they  won.  When  this  army 
came  to  Texas,  Cotton  was  much  surprised.  A 
little  plant  at  the  edge  of  the  field  looked  at  a  taller 


6 


FARM  SPIES 


plant,  and  asked,  "Who  are  those  fellows  with  those 

long  noses?" 

"Sonny,"  the  tall  plant  answered,   "that  is  the 

boll-weevil,"    and-  they    both    looked    very    grave. 

"What  scares  me/'  the  older  plant  continued,  "is 

the  way  the  rascals  work.     They  make  no  fuss  about 

it,  but  every  time 
they  start  their 
jaws  to  work  on 
a  square  it  is  al- 
most certain  death. 
I  do  not  mind  hav- 
ing a  leaf  or  two 
eaten  by  some  cat- 
erpillar ;  that  does 
not  injure  me.  I 

(FromBUr.ofE»t..U.S.Dept.ofAgr.)      fo    n()t    mind    hay_ 
FIG.  3.  —  "Sonny,  that  is  the  boll-weevil."     . 

ing  a  bug  come  and 

eat  a  square  or  a  boll,  because  I  can  stand  that, 
as  I  have  plenty  of  others  left  to  make  a  crop ; 
but  these  rogues  bore  holes  into  the  squares  or  bolls, 
and  every  time  they  puncture  a  square  it  is  almost 
sure  to  drop  to  the  ground ;  sometimes  they  re- 
main hanging  on  the  plants  and  dry  up.  It  looks 
like  a  dreadful  thing  to  me,"  said  the  plant  with  a 
long  sigh. 

Yes,  Cotton  had  bragged  that  there  was  nothing 
strong  enough  on  earth  that  could  make  him  take 


THE  BOLL-WEEVIL  7 

notice  of  it,  but  he  surely  seemed  to  take  notice  of 
the  boll-weevil. 

Mr.  Corn  was  talking  to  Miss  Cowpea  about  it 
one  day,  and  said,  "Miss  Cowpea,  have  you  noticed 
King  Cotton  lately?" 

"Yes,  I  have,  and  he  seems  terribly  nervous 
about  something/'  Miss  Cowpea  replied. 

"Do  you  know  what  ails  him?"  Mr.  Corn 
asked. 

"No,  what  is  it,  do  you  know?"  Miss  Cowpea 
asked. 

"Why,  that  boll-weevil  has  him  frightened  almost 
into  a  fit,"  Mr.  Corn  said. 

"Is  that  boll-weevil  as  bad  as  all  that?"  Miss 
Cowpea  asked. 

Mr.  Corn  explained:  "He  is  a  bad  one,  let  me 
tell  you.  Those  boll-weevils  are  the  smartest 
beetles  that  ever  visited  a  cotton-patch.  They 
work  so  differently  from  other  insects  that  have 
attacked  cotton  heretofore.  They  do  not  eat  the 
foliage  as  the  cotton  leaf-worm  or  the  grasshoppers 
do.  They  do  not  display  themselves  on  the  plants 
as  the  'fool'  leaf-worms  do,  but  they  stay  behind 
the  little  leaves  you  see  around  every  square  and 
boll." 

"How  do  they  feed?"   asked  Miss  Cowpea. 

"You  know  that  they  have  beaks  that  remind 
you  of  little  elephants'  trunks.  At  the  ends  of 


8  FARM  SPIES 

these  beaks  are  the  mouths.     With  these  they  make 

cavities  into  the  squares  and  bolls  and  eat  the  in- 

sides,"  Mr.  Corn  explained. 

"Don't  they  eat  the  outside  of  the  squares  and 

bolls?"    Miss  Cowpea  asked  again. 

"I  guess  I  have  told  you.     No,  they  do  not  eat 

the  outside  except 
for  a  tiny  hole  as 
big  as  an  ordinary 
pin." 

Old  Mr.  Crab- 
grass  had  now  be- 
come interested,  and 
looking  up,  said,  "I 
have  been  watching 
the  performance  for 
some  time,  and  I 
am  sure  I  do  not 

(FromBur.ofEnt.,U.S.Dept.ofAgr.)         S66     hoW     Cotton     is 

FIG.  4.  — "With  these   they  make  cavities    gojng  to  manage  it. 
into  the  squares  and  bolls. 

But  speaking  about 

those  cavities,  do  you  notice  they  leave  some  of 
them  open  and  others  they  close  very  carefully.  I 
wonder  why  they  do  that?" 

Mr.  Corn  replied,  "  Those  that  are  left  open  are 
used  for  food  only,  but  when  they  want  to  lay  their 
eggs  they  make  the  same  kind  of  cavity,  and  after 
the  egg  has  been  laid  into  it  they  seal  it  very  care- 


THE  BOLLr-WEEVIL 


9 


fully ;  this  must 
be  quite  a  pro- 
tection to  the 
egg  from  ene- 
mies and  it  must 
prevent  the 
square  from  dry- 
ing." 

"But  look  at 
all  those  squares 
lying  on  the 
ground.  Who  does 
that?"  Miss  Cow- 
pea  asked. 

Mr.  Corn,  who 
had  been  watching 
very  closely,  ex- 
plained :  "That  is 
because  many  of 
the  squares  will 
drop  to  the  ground 
within  a  week  after 
they  have  been 
punctured  either  for 
feeding  or  for  egg- 
laying.  A  few  days 
after  the  eggs  are 
laid  they  hatch  into 


(From  Bur.  of  Ent.,  U.  S.  Dept.  ofAgr.) 
FIG.  5.  —  "Those  that  are  left  open  are  used 
for  food  only." 


(After  Bur.  of  Ent.,  U.  S.  Dept.  Agr.) 

FIG.  6.  —  "They  hatch  into  little  footless 
grubs." 


10 


FARM  SPIES 


little  footless  grubs  which  feed  on  the  inside  of 
the  squares.  When  the  grubs  become  full-grown 
they  change  to  pupa?,  from  which  a  few  days  later  the 
young  weevils  emerge.  The  time  required  from  egg 
to  full-grown  weevil  is  from  two  to  three  weeks." 

"Let  me  tell  you 
something  more," 
Corn  added;  "this 
is  going  to  be  a 
great  war.  That 
boll-weevil  army  is 
something  terrible, 
but  people  think  so 
much  of  Cotton  that 
they  will  fight  as  no 
farmers  have  ever 
fought  before." 

Wherever  the 
weevils  were  at 
work  one  could  see 
the  buds  and  blooms 

lie  on  the  ground.  No  one  had  ever  seen  anything 
so  destructive.  When  Martin  Hentsel's  boys  came 
from  the  field  one  day  at  dinner-time  they  told  their 
father  about  it.  He  answered,  "Well,  I  had  better 
go  and  look  at  it  myself  after  dinner."  The  way 
he  said  it  made  his  son  Jim  rosy,  and  he  replied 
rather  curtly,  "The  damage  will  be  just  the  same." 


FIG.  7.  —  "They  change  to  pupse." 


THE  BOLL-WEEVIL  11 

"What!"  his  father  retorted,  "did  you  ever  see 
anything  that  could  stump  me,  heh?" 

"I  am  afraid  I  have ;  I  think  I  saw  it  this  morn- 
ing, and  it  is  the  little  boll-weevil.  If  you  know  how 
to  get  us  out  of  this  trouble,  then  I  am  willing  to 
believe  that  there  is  nothing  on  earth  that  can 
stump  you." 

"We  will  see  about  it,"  Mr.  Hentsel  answered 
with  importance. 

It  is  true  that  Mr.  Hentsel  was  a  bright  man  and 
a  good  farmer  and  always  seemed  to  find  some  way 
to  get  over  trouble,  so  when  he  came  to  the  cotton 
field  after  dinner  several  of  the  neighbors  saw  him 
and  came  also.  After  he  had  looked  at  the  cotton 
carefully,  he  turned  to  the  other  men  and  said,  "Let 
me  tell  you  something."  Everybody  listened,  think- 
ing that  a  bright  idea  had  occurred  to  him.  "This 
is  terrible,"  he  said,  and  walked  home. 

"We  have  known  that  for  several  days,  haven't 
we?"  George  Carnes  said.  "We  may  as  well  go 
back  to  our  plows." 

And  so  it  was  with  the  best  farmers.  They  saw 
that,  in  spite  of  anything  they  said  or  tried  to  do, 
the  weevils  became  more  and  more  destructive. 
Year  after  year  they  became  more  numerous  and 
kept  on  spreading  over  more  plantations.  In  1900 
they  had  spread  over  the  greater  portion  of  east 
Texas  and  had  entered  Louisiana.  Cotton  and  his 


12  FARM  SPIES 

supporters  saw  nothing  but  gloom  ahead.  Soon 
after  the  weevils  had  been  discovered,  entomologists 
of  the  United  States  Department  of  Agriculture 
came  and  studied  the  pests.  Cotton  saw  them 
busily  working  day  after  day,  night  after  night ; 
they  never  made  any  noise  and  they  would  not  talk. 
One  day  when  Cotton  was  talking  to  Corn  he  said : 
"I  never  felt  so  bad.  I  always  thought  that  I  was 
so  strong  that  I  had  nothing  to  fear,  but  I  tell  you 
I  am  being  beaten  by  those  pests,  and  nobody  can 
help  me." 

"Go  easy,"  answered  Corn;  " those  entomologists 
are  at  work,  and  they  are  the  men  who  will  get  you 
out  of  this  trouble  if  anybody  on  earth  can  do  it." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  Cotton  replied. 
"  Those  men  are  too  quiet ;  they  will  not  talk.  Oh, 
I  admit  they  are  busy  enough,  but  why  don't  they 
talk  and  tell  us  something.  I  have  no  faith  in  them. 
Other  men  come  around  and  they  make  speeches 
and  the  people  cheer  them,  and  I  think  that  they 
will  help  me  if  anybody  can." 

"Don't  you  pay  any  attention  to  those  speech- 
makers.  This  is  not  the  time  for  speech-making. 
It  is  wasting  breath.  Those  entomologists  are 
members  of  the  staff  of  Dr.  Science,  and  I  have  end- 
less faith  in  the  old  Doctor.  You  have  not  had 
enough  experience  with  him  to  know ;  he  has  his 
men  work  slowly  and  carefully,  and  they  say  noth- 


THE   BOLL-WEEVIL  13 

ing  until  they  have  something  to  say.  Dr.  Science 
and  his  staff  have  been  of  untold  help  to  us  in  the 
corn-belt,  and  you  can  take  my  word  that  before 
long  you  will  find  that  those  entomologists  are  the 
best  friends  you  have,  and  that  they  will  find  a  way 
to  save  you.  Don't  listen  to  the  talkers,  they  are 
mostly  men  who  do  that  to  get  into  politics.  You 
put  your  faith  in  Dr.  Science,  and  mind  what  I  tell 
you." 

A  short  time  after  Cotton  and  Corn  had  this  talk 
the  entomologist  said:  "We  have  found  that  the 
weevils  suffer  heavy  losses  in  winter  and  are  so 
weakened  by  spring  that  it  is  necessary  for  them  to 
increase  their  numbers  greatly  before  they  can  do 
great  damage.  We  must  force  the  cotton  to  get 
ahead  of  the  weevil.  To  do  this  we  must  prepare 
our  land  in  the  fall  and  winter.  The  seed-bed  must 
be  well  prepared  and  plant-food  must  be  given 
intelligently.  After  the  cotton  is  up,  keep  the  weeds 
down  and  cultivate  often  and  shallow  in  order  to 
keep  a  blanket  of  loose  soil  at  the  surface ;  this  pre- 
vents the  soil  from  drying  out  and  is  called  a  soil- 
mulch.  We  must  save  the  soil-moisture  because 
the  cotton  needs  it  when  the  hot  and  dry  weather 
sets  in.  If  you  allow  the  surface  of  the  soil  to  pack 
or  let  a  crust  form  by  rain,  you  will  lose  the  soil- 
moisture  quickly  and  the  plants  will  suffer. 

"The  soil-water  helps  to  bring  the  plant-food  in 


14  FARM  SPIES 

the  soil  into  solution  so  that  the  plant  can  take  it  ; 
plants,  as  you  know,  cannot  take  solid  foods.  •  This 
will  enable  the  cotton  to  bloom,  and  form  bolls 
before  the  weevil-army,  weakened  by  winter,  can 
become  strong  enough  to  puncture  all  the  squares 
before  they  bloom  and  form  bolls." 

When  Cotton  saw  people  beginning  to  practice 
this  and  that  it  helped,  he  felt  more  cheerful.  He 
said  to  Corn:  "You  know  I  feel  somewhat  better. 
I  thought  that  my  end  had  come,  but  those  quiet 
entomologists  have  gained  a  point  in  my  favor. 
Those  men  are  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  study- 
ing every  movement  of  the  weevils  to  see  if  these 
movements  cannot  be  made  into  weapons  to  fight 
the  bandits.  I  agree  with  you  now  that,  the  ento- 
mologists are  the  best  friends  I  have.  Who  would 
have  thought  that  they  could  take  winter  and  line  it 
up  as  an  enemy  against  the  weevils  ?  Planting  early 
kinds  of  cotton  as  early  as  is  safe  and  forcing  them 
as  they  told  us,  surely  helps." 

There  came  upon  the  scene  of  action  another 
band  of  workers  whose  existence  had  never  been 
dreamed  of.  They  were  led  by  another  great  Ameri- 
can who  was  an  expert  in  farm-management,  and 
his  band  of  workers  were  called  demonstrators. 
Every  important  discovery  which  the  scientists 
made  they  not  only  told  Cotton,  but  they  went  to 
the  farms  and  showed  the  farmers  how  to  use  it. 


THE   BOLL-WEEVIL  15 

The  people  began  to  prepare  their  lands  better  and 
better.  As.  they  showed  them  these  things  they 
talked  to  the  farmers,  saying:  "The  soil  needs  air 
and  water.  You  let  your  lands  lie  idle  during  winter, 
with  stalks  and  stubble  and  weeds  on  them ;  the  re- 
sults are  land-washing  and  the  loss  of  plant-food, 
and  it  has  been  shown  that  the  weeds  and  stalks 
provide  shelter  for  the  boll-weevils  in  winter.  If 
possible  plow  your  land  well  in  the  fall  to  enable  the 
soil  to  store  up  moisture ;  cover-crops  should  be 
sown  to  prevent  the  loss  of  this  moisture,  to  avoid 
the  leaching  away  of  the  plant-food,  and  to  keep  the 
soil  from  washing.  Good  crops  for  this  purpose  are 
rye,  oats,  and  wheat,  but  whenever  possible  crops 
should  be  used  that  have  the  power  to  add  nitrogen 
to  the  soil,  because  this  is  one  of  the  most  important 
and  most  expensive  plant-foods." 
»  The  people  who  had  listened  became  very  much 
interested,  and  asked,  "What  are  some  of  the  plants 
that  have  the  power  to  make  nitrogen?'7  They 
were  told  that  good  examples  were  vetch,  cowpeas, 
clovers,  alfalfa,  and  others ;  that  the  vetches  and 
some  of  the  clovers  made  good  ccfver-crops.  Some 
asked,  "How  can  any  plant  make  nitrogen  in  the 
soil?"  The  entomologist  replied:  "One  day  when 
Dr.  Science  was  walking  across  a  field  he  heard  a 
vetch-plant  and  a  bacterium  talking  together,  and  he 
listened. 


16  FARM  SPIES 

'"How  do  you  do?'  said  the  bacterium  to  the 
vetch-plant. 

'"  Not  very  well/  answered  vetch.  '  I  cannot  get 
enough  nitrogen.  You  know  that  every  meal  I  eat 
I  must  have  potash,  phosphoric  acid,  and  nitrogen ; 
I  can  get  enough  of  the  first  two,  but  I  am  starving 
for  nitrogen,  and  so  I  feel  very  bad.  Nitrogen, 
you  know,  is  hard  to  keep  in  the  soil,  and  as  it 
costs  so  much,  farmers  are  not  willing  to  supply 
enough  of  it.' 

"'That  is  very  funny/  answered  the  bacterium; 
'with  me  it  is  just  the  other  way.  I  have  all- the 
nitrogen  I  need  because  I  have  a  very  cheap  way  of 
making  it,  but  I  cannot  get  enough  potash  and  phos- 
phoric acid,  and  as  I  have  to  have  them  on  my  table 
as  well  as  you,  I  am  starving.7 

"  Dr.  Science  then  stepped  forward  and  asked  the 
bacterium,  '  You  say  you  have  an  easy  way  for  mak- 
ing nitrogen ;  will  you  explain  it  to  me  ? ' 

" '  With  pleasure/  the  bacterium  replied.  '  Three- 
fourths  of  the  air  is  nitrogen,  and  God  has  given 
me  the  power  to  draw  on  this  vast  storehouse  and 
change  it  so  that  it  can  be  eaten  by  plants.7 

"'Wait  'a  minute,  Mr.  Bacterium/  said  Dr. 
Science;  'would  it  be  possible  for  you  two  to  get 
together  and  trade?' 

"'I  have  an  idea/  exclaimed  the  vetch-plant; 
'we  can  live  together ;  the  bacterium  can  live  on  my 


THE   BOLL-WEEVIL  17 

roots  and  supply  me  with  nitrogen    and  I  furnish 
him  with  phosphoric  acid  and  potash." 

This  was  agreed  upon,  and  now  the  bacteria  live 
in  colonies  in  little  nodules  on  the  roots  of  vetch. 
Being  asked  about  it  later,  vetch  answered,  "It 


FIG.  8.  —  "The  little  houses  may  now  be  found  on  the  roots  of  vetch, 
clovers,  beans,  peas,  alfalfa,  and  other  legume  plants." 

works  fine."  The  little  houses  may  now  be  found 
on  the  roots  of  vetch,  clovers,  beans,  peas,  alfalfa, 
and  other  legume  plants. 

"Use  vetch  or  clover  for  winter  and  cowpeas  for 
summer  and  rotate  your  crops/'  said  the  demonstra- 


18 


FARM  SPIES 


tors.  So  the  people  planted  rye  and  vetch  in  the 
cotton  lands  in  the  fall.  Some  planted  oats  and 
vetch,  or  clover.  Some  farmers  would  plow  this 
under  in  the  spring  to  add  green  manure  to  the  soil ; 


(Photo  by  Harper,  S.  C.  Exp.  Sta.) 
FIG.  9.  —  "And  cowpeas  for  the  summer."     Cowpeas  in  the  foreground. 

others  let  it  grow  in  the  spring  and  later  cut  it  for 
hay  or  grain.  Some  of  the  land  where  the  winter 
cover-crops  were  plowed  under  was  planted  in 
corn,  and  the  corn  was  followed  by  cowpeas  at  the 


THE   BOLD-WEEVIL  19 

last  working.  The  corn-land  was  again  planted  in 
cover-crops  in  the  fall  to  be  plowed  under  again  in 
the  spring  to  add  more  vegetable  matter.  Where 
the  cover-crops  were  cut  for  hay  the  land  was 
planted  in  cowpeas,  and  in  this  way  the  soils  that 
had  been  idle  a  large  part  of  the  year  were  made  to 
work  every  month  of  the  year. 

The  boll-weevils .  were  mad  now.  They  had  a 
spite  against  the  entomologists  and  the  demonstra- 
tors. uThe  way  those  fellows  are  going  at  it  is 
surely  hard  on  us/'  they  said;  " farmers  used  to 
plant  nothing  but  cotton,  and  we  had  no  trouble  to 
find  plenty  of  food  everywhere,  but  now  many  of 
the  same  fields  are  planted  in  corn  and  other  crops 
which  we  cannot  eat.  Shucks,  what  decent  bug 
would  eat  corn,  —  that  old  tough  stuff ;  and  those 
cowpeas  that  we  tried  to  eat  the  other  day,  —  why, 
it  made  our  stomachs  sick ;  there  is  no  taste  to  them, 
oh,  hum/'  they  sighed. 

The  weevils  were  now  forced  to  scatter  to  find 
food,  and  when  winter  came  they  found  that  the 
fields  had  been  handled  differently  from  the  old 
custom.  Two  weevils  were  talking  one  day. 

"How  are  you  getting  along?"    one  asked. 

"I  am  getting  along  all  right  if  I  could  only  find 
a  place  to  stay  over  winter.  It  beats  all.  I  never 
heard  of  my  parents  having  trouble  this  way ;  they 
always  found  plenty  of  old  stubble,  rubbish,  grass, 


20 


FARM  SPIES 


and  leaves,  but  now  the  farmers  clean  up  the  fields 
so  that  it  is  impossible  to  find  lodging.  Even  the 
woods  are  cleaned  up,  and  the  nice  underbrush  along 
the  creeks  and  branches  where  my  ancestors  used  to 
spend  the  winters  in  comfort  are  grubbed  out  and 


FIG.  10.  —  "They  always   found    plenty  of  old  stubble,  rubbish,  grass 
and  leaves." 


everything  cleaned  up.  Well,  I  must  hurry,  or  cold 
weather  will  catch  me  in  the  open.  I  must  find  cover 
for  winter."  An  old  cotton-plant,  that  was  left  for 
an  experiment,  heard  what  the  old  weevil  said,  and 
he  laughed  and  laughed.  "  Whoopeee/7  he  exclaimed, 
"we  are  getting  you  on  our  wagon,  old  boy." 


THE   BOLL-WEEVIL  21 

All  this  time  the  entomologists  had  been  hard  at 
work  and  had  learned  that  the  weevils  cannot  go 
into  winter  quarters  until  driven  by  the  cool  weather. 
They  told  the  people  about  it;  and  said :  "  No  army 
can  fight  unless  the  soldiers  have  their  stomachs 
full.  You  must  pick  fast  and  as  far  as  you  can, 
destroy  the  cotton-stalks  about  two  weeks  before 
the  first  killing  frost.  If  you  can,  plow  them  under. 
This  will  force  the  weevils  to  starve  before  they  can 
go  into  winter  quarters,  for  they  must  have  cotton 
to  feed  on  until  that  time."  Many  people  who  had 
been  waiting  for  the  entomologists  and  demonstra- 
tors to  find  some  spray  to  kill  the  weevils  saw  that 
the  many  different  kinds  of  sprays  that  had  been 
tried  were  failures.  One  morning  in  June  a  num- 
ber of  those  people  were  sitting  in  front  of  Miller's 
store  talking  about  the  hard  times. 

"If  these  entomologists  and  demonstrators  would 
only  find  some  simple  spray  that  we  could  use,  then 
we  could  fight  the  weevils,"  they  said. 

Just  then  Jim  Conley,  one  of  the  best  farmers  of 
that  section,  came  along  and  heard  what  they  said. 

"I  hope  they  will  never  find  a  spray,"  he  said. 

"What ! ! !"  those  people  roared.  "What  do  you 
mean?" 

"If  somebody  should  find  such  spray,  you  would 
depend  on  it  instead  of  good  farming.  You  would 
just  keep  on  growing  nothing  but  cotton  and  wear 


22  FARM  SPIES 

out  your  soils,"  and  he  walked  on,  because  he  was  a 
good  farmer  who  did  not  have  time  to  stand  around 
the  street,  arguing. 

Since  the  weevils  came  to  this  country  many  in- 
sects and  birds  have  become  their  enemies  and  are 
destroying  them.  Even  the  cotton  caterpillar,  that 
athlete  among  insects,  has  been  of  help  in  fighting 
them,  by  eating  the  leaves  late  in  the  season  when 
no  more  squares  may  be  expected  to  mature ;  this 
kills  weevils  by  starving  them  or  by  forcing  them 
into  winter  quarters  before  they  are  ready. 

Mr.  Hentsel  says:  "  The  boll-weevil  is  a  bad  one, 
and  I  wish  he  had  never  come,  but  he  is  here,  and 
we  might  as  well  forget  when  he  came.  He  has 
done  us  good.  Since  he  came  to  the  South  we  have 
found  out  that  we  are  better  farmers  than  we  thought 
we  were.  When  that  long-nosed  rogue  came  he 
thought  he  would  just  walk  over  us  and  starve  us, 
but  I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  Americans  are  hard  to 
beat." 


THE  BLACK  BILL-BUG  OF  CORN 


JOHN  DRAKE  had  complained  several  times  that 
something  was  injuring  his  corn,  but  was  unable  to 
find  out  what  was  causing  it.  One  evening  he  came 
home  with  his  face  looking 
somewhat  like  a  thunder 
cloud,  and  it  did  not  re- 
quire a  second  look  for  any 
one  to  conclude  that  he 
was  in  a  very  bad  humor. 
His  right  hand  was  closed 
as  if  he  were  carrying  some- 
thing, and  the  children 
were  wondering  what  he 

found  that  displeased  him  so.     He  walked  to  the 
dining  room  and  laid  two  black  beetles  on  the  table. 

"  I  have  caught  them  in  the  act,"  he  said.  "  These 
rascals  are  the  cause  of  my  corn's  dying.  I  found 
them  in  an  old  stalk,  and  you  ought  to  see  what 
they  did  to  the  inside  of  the  stalk.  They  just 
about  made  sawdust  out  of  it,"  and  striking  the 
table  with  his  fist  he  looked  at  Mrs.  Drake  and  the 
children  about  him. 

23 


FIG.  11.  —  "And  laid  two  black 
beetles  on  the  table." 


24  FARM  SPIES 

"They  are  not  rascals;  they  are  beetles,"  said 
Johnny,  who  was  too  young  to  understand  how  his 
father  felt.  If  Johnny  had  been  old  enough  to  be 
responsible  for  a  corn  crop,  he  might  have  under- 
stood. 

"What??"    Mr.  Drake  thundered. 

Johnny  in  his  innocence  thought  that  he  was  ask- 
ing for  information,  and  so  he  repeated,  "They  are 
beetles.  They  have  hard  wing  covers  and  - 

"I  don't  care  what  they  are  —  they  are  killing 
my  corn  —  they  have  killed  it,  and  it  made  no  dif- 
ference to  them  what  I  said  or  did,"  his  father 
roared. 

Johnny  had  by  this  time  realized  that  he  made  a 
mistake  when  he  spoke  and  that  his  father  was  in 
no  frame  of  mind  to  listen  to  a  story  on  insect  struc- 
ture. His  father  had  discovered  that  these  insects 
had  killed  his  corn,  and  he  wanted  revenge. 

"How  are  they  injuring  the  corn?"  Mrs.  Drake 
asked. 

"They  are  not  doing  any  injury  now  because  the 
corn  is  ready  to  gather,  but  what  they  did  do  is 
enough.  I  am  going  to  get  ready  for  war,  and  if 
necessary  I  will  catch  every  one  of  them  and  twist 
their  heads  off.  Yes,  sir,  that  is  what  I  will  do," 
he  said,  sitting  with  his  chin  in  his  hands  and  a 
grouchy  look  on  his  face. 

To  the  children  it  looked  comical,  and  they  would 


THE  BLACK   BILL-BUG   OF   CORN 


25 


have  laughed  had  they  considered  it  safe.  No  one 
laughed,  you  may  be  sure,  or  if  he  did  he  took  good 
care  that  his  father  should  not  see  him,  because  he 
was  not  in  a  humor  to  see 
anything  funny  about  this. 

Johnny  had  to  goto  school 
the  rest  of  the  week,  and  he 
saw  farmers  all  around  him 
harvesting  corn.  When  he 
came  from  school  the  first 
evening  after  his  father  had 
found  the  beetles,  he  asked 
him  whether  he  had  found 
any  more. 

"No,"  his  father  answered, 
"I  cut  dozens  of  stalks  open 
to-day,  but  I  did  not  find 
another  beetle.'7 

So  it  was  the  rest  of  the 
week.  His  father  had  been 
cutting  stalks  but  had  found 
no  more  beetles.  On  Satur- 
day morning  all  the  corn  had 
been  gathered,  and  only  the 
stubble  were  left  in  the  fields.  There  was  much 
other  work  to  do  at  this  time  of  the  year,  so  that 
the  beetles  were  soon  forgotten.  One  very  cold 
morning  in  January,  as  Johnny  started  to  school, 


FIG.  12. —  "But  what  they  did 
do  is  enough." 


26  FARM  SPIES 

he  met  Frank  Welden  on  the  road,  and  they  walked 
along  together.  Mr.  Welden  was  one  of  the  oldest 
farmers  of  that  neighborhood,  and  was  very  fond  of 
Johnny. 

"Well,  Johnny,  this  is  a  cold  morning,  but  when 
a  man  has  plenty  of  good  kindling-wood,  plenty  of 
meat,  potatoes,  and  fruit  in  the  cellar,  and  his  barn 
full  of  fodder,  he  does  not  mind  it  so  much.  That 
is  what  I  like  about  farming;  we  farmers  always 
get  along  better  than  many  of  the  people  living  in 
town.'7  So  Mr.  Welden  talked  to  Johnny  and 
Johnny  listened  to  every  word  he  said.  When  they 
came  to  where  they  could  see  Mr.  Drake's  cornfield 
on  the  right  of  the  road,  Mr.  Welden  said,  "  Johnny, 
tell  your  father  that  he  should  not  be  leaving  the 
corn  stubble  on  the  field  over  there  the  way  he  does." 

"Why?"    asked  Johnny. 

"It  is  a  bad  thing  to  do.  It  is  only  common 
farming.  Those  stubble  somehow  make  lots  of 
bugs  next  year/'  Mr.  Welden  explained. 

Just  at  this  time  they  came  to  the  cross-road.  "I 
will  tell  him  what  you  said,"  Johnny  called  as  he 
left  Mr.  Welden. 

When  Johnny  came  home  that  evening  he  told 
his  father  what  Mr.  Welden  had  said. 

"Mr.  Welden  believes  that  all  kinds  of  insects 
stay  in  those  stubble  during  the  winter,"  his  father 
replied. 


THE  BLACK  BILL-BUG  OF   CORN  27 

"Do  you  believe  that?"   asked  Johnny. 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  do  or  not.  It  looks 
to  me  as  if  any  bugs  trying  to  stay  in  those  stubble 
would  freeze  to  death  during  the  winter,"  Mr. 
Drake  replied. 

"I  have  been  thinking  about  it,"  Johnny  con- 


FIG.  13.  —  "Those  stubble  somehow  make  lots  of  bugs  next  year." 

tinued ;  "the  little  bugs  have  no  houses  with  warm 
stoves  and  I  have  wondered  many  times  what  they 
do  through  the  long  cold  winter  when  there  is  no 
food.  I  should  certainly  hate  to  be  a  bug."  At  this 
remark  by  Johnny  the  whole  family  laughed. 

"What  makes  you  think  that  the  bugs  live  during 
the  winter?"  asked  his  mother.  "I  thought  that 
they  all  died  in  the  fall." 


28  FARM  SPIES 

"My  teacher  told  us  that  bugs  lived  during  the 
winter  in  a  quiet,  sleepy  condition  called  hiberna- 
tion/' Johnny  replied;  "during  the  winter ,  she  said 
that  they  did  not  have  to  have  food,  and  that  from 
the  bugs  that  stay  over  winter  the  insects  come  the 
following  year." 

"All  right,  Johnny,"  said  his  father  with  a  laugh, 
"I  give  you  a  job  for  next  Saturday.  You  go  over 
the  old  corn  stubble  in  the  field  back  of  the  barn, 
cut  them  open  and  examine  them  closely  to  find 
out  if  there  are  any  bugs  in  them." 

"I'll  do  it/'  answered  Johnny.  They  all  laughed, 
and  no  more  was  said  about  the  subject  that  evening. 

On  Saturday  morning,  Mr.  Drake  saw  Johnny 
going  across  the  field.  "Where  are  you  going, 
sonny?"  he  called. 

"I  am  going  to  hunt  for  the  bugs  you  told  me 
about  the  other  evening,"  Johnny  answered. 

Mr.  Drake,  laughing  with  a  "guffaw,"  said, 
"Well,  well,  boy,  go  easy  now  and  don't  catch  them 
all,  because  if  there  happened  to  be  no  bugs  next 
year  it  would  surprise  me  so  that  I  could  hardly 
get  down  to.  business,  and  then  the  weeds  would 
cover  my  cornfield." 

"That  is  the  time  I  would  plow  the  corn  for  you," 
Johnny  answered,  laughing,  and  walked  on. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  cornfield  he  confessed 
to  himself  that  he  had  little  faith  in  finding  bugs  in 


THE   BLACK   BILL-BUG   OF   CORN  29 

the  corn  stubble,  and  if  he  failed  the  folks  at  home 
would  laugh  at  him.  Starting  in  a  half-hearted  way 
he  selected  the  biggest  stubble  he  could  see  and 
putting  his  right  foot  on  one  side  and  his  left  on 
the  other  he  stooped  over  and  began  pulling  with 
both  hands  as  hard  as  he  could,  —  in  fact  he  pulled 
so  hard  that  he  grunted.  While  pulling  he  bit  his 
tongue  between  his  teeth  and  drew  his  face  out  of 
shape  as  if  he  were  suffering  severe  pain.  When  he 
had  pulled,  twisted,  grunted,  and  looked  painful  for 
some  time,  the  stubble,  root  and  all,  came  so  suddenly 
that  Johnny  was  not  prepared,  and  he  fell  backwards, 
almost  turning  a  somersault,  with  earth  flying  all 
over  him.  He  remained  on  his  back  a  few  moments 
as  if  to  catch  his  breath,  then  got  up,  stiffly,  like  an 
old  man,  and  sat  rubbing  his  eyes.  He  put  his 
hands  down,  winked  hard  a  few  times,  and  then 
rubbed  his  eyes  some  more.  He  kept  on  spitting 
and  sneezing,  wondering  if  he  would  ever  get  rid  of 
all  the  pieces  of  earth  that  had  lodged  in  his  eyes, 
nose,  mouth,  and  ears.  Then  he  slowly  drew  his 
knife  from  his  pocket  and  split  the  stubble  and  root. 
What  do  you  suppose  he  saw  as  he  laid  the  two  pieces 
on  the  ground  very  quickly  and  looked  at  them  with 
bulging  eyes?  He  thought  that  he  saw  three  bill- 
bugs  partly  hidden  in  little  nests  in  the  dried  and 
rotten  pith  of  the  inside  of  the  stubble. 

"I  must  have  fallen  pretty  hard,  for  I  never  see 


30 


FARM   SPIES 


such  things  except  when  I  dream  at  night.  I  won- 
der if  the  fall  hurt  my  eyes."  He  rubbed  them  once 
more,  quite  thoroughly  this  time.  He  looked  again, 
and,  sure  enough,  the  bugs  were  still  there.  He 
broke  a  piece  from  another  stubble,  and  getting  down 
on  his  knees  he  pushed  the  beetles  and  turned  them 
over. 


FIG.  14.  —  "He  looked  again,  and,  sure  enough,  the  bugs  were  still  there." 

"My  eyes  are  all  right,  and  those  are  bill-bugs  as 
sure  as  I  live.  I  bet  they  are  dead,  or  maybe  asleep, 
—  no,  I  saw  that  one  move."  He  pointed  to  one 
of  the  beetles  which  he  saw  move  its  legs.  After 
a  few  moments  he  saw  the  others  move  slightly. 

"Hm,  they  act  like  boys  when  you  wake  them 
up  in  the  morning,  except  that  they  do  not  yawn. 


THE   BLACK   BILI^BUG   OF   CORN  31 

Maybe  they  do,  but  their  mouths  are  so  small  that 
I  cannot  see  .them.  To  tell  the  truth  I  do  not  know 
yet  at  which  end  the  mouth  is  located."  So  Johnny 
spoke  to  himself,  at  the  same  time  carefully  studying 
the  beetles.  He  saw  the  eyes  and  feelers,  and  then 
was  sure  that  the  mouth  was  at  the  end  of  the  little 
beak.  Looking  at  them  gravely,  he  said  to  himself : 
"They  look  like  elephants  except 
that  they  are  blacker,  much 
smaller,  have  no  tails,  no  lopping 

..     T  FIG.  15. -"They  look 

ears,  —  well,  1  guess  they  are  not  like  elephants,  ex- 
like  elephants  after  all.  Why  cept~ 
should  my  looking  at  them  have  reminded  me  of 
elephants?  Oh,  I  see  now,  those  little  beaks  did 
it,  because  they  remind  one  of  elephants'  trunks. 
That  is  it.  Well,  well,  well,"  he  sighed  and  looked 
about  him.  "I  am  going  to  pull  some  more,  and 
I  will  surely  take  some  home  to  show  to  father. 
See  here,  I  did  not  come  to  practice  for  a  circus,  so 
the  next  stubble  I  am  going  to  dig  up,  and  then 
there  will  be  no  danger  of  my  turning  somersaults 
without  knowing  it  until  it  is  all  over."  He  went 
to  a  near-by  fence,  broke  off  a  good-sized  sliver,  and 
with  it  he  dug  up  many  more  stubbles.  With  his 
knife  he  split  these  open.  Finding  beetles  in  most  of 
them,  he  was  no  longer  discouraged,  but  felt  that  he 
was  being  well  repaid  for  his  trip.  It  was  a  great 
relief  that  they  could  not  laugh  at  him  when  he 


32  FARM  SPIES 

returned  home,  because  he  had  a  discovery  to  report 
and  the  bill-bugs  in  the  stubble  to  prove  it. 

Did  you  ever  discover  anything,  and  do  you  re- 
member how  good  you  felt  about  it  ?  Here  in  these 
innocent-looking  corn  stubble  was  the  winter  home 
of  the  corn  bill-bug.  There  the  little  insects  slept 
throughout  the  long  winter  when  the  ground  of  the 


FIG.  16. —  "Johnny,  that  cold-frame  back  of  the  chicken-coop  I  give 
you  for  an  insect  breeding-cage." 

stubble-field  was  frozen  and  icicles  hung  from  the 
eaves. 

When  he  came  home  and  showed  them  what  he 
had  found,  they  all  became  very  much  interested. 
"Johnny/'  said  his  father,  "that  cold-frame  back 
of  the  chicken-coop  I  give  you  for  an  insect  breeding- 
cage.  It  is  my  cold-frame,  but  you  clean  the  glass 
in  the  sashes  well,  and  then  get  more  stubble  from 


THE    BLACK   BILL-BUG   OF   CORN  33 

the  place  where  you  got  these  and  put  them  in  the 
ground  in  the  cold-frame  just  as  they  were  in  the 
field  ;  do  not  cut  the  stubble.  Please  get  the  stubble 
to-day,  because  I  am  going  to  plow  them  up  and 
remove  them  from  the  field.  I'll  warrant  that  they 
will  not  stay  there  this  winter  to  breed  the  bugs  to 
eat  the  corn  next  summer.  It  begins  to  look  to  me 
as  if  I  have  been  breeding  bugs  to  eat  my  corn. 
No  more  of  that ;  I  am  going  to  see  the  neighbors 
and  tell  them  about  this  and  ask  them  to  destroy 
the  stubble." 

Johnny  got  the  stubble  as  his  father  had  directed, 
and  put  them  in  the  ground  under  the  glass  sashes. 
Not  a  day  passed  that  Johnny  did  not  look  into  the 
cold  frame.  It  took  much  tedious  waiting  through 
many  weeks  because  the  insects  would  not  stir  as 
long  as  the  tang  of  frost  was  in  the  air.  Johnny 
said  he  thought  it  was  the  longest  winter  he  had 
ever  spent.  When  at  last  the  warm  weather  of 
spring  set  in,  the  insects  woke  from  their  long  sleep 
and  left  their  winter  homes  to  find  something  to  eat. 

"I  do  not  blame  them,"  said  Johnny,  " because 
such  a  long  nap  would  make  anybody  hungry." 

During  the  first  few  days  they  did  not  seem  to  be 
able  to  get  their  appetites  in  good  condition  even 
though  Johnny  had  been  so  thoughtful  and  planted 
five  hills  of  corn  in  the  nice  rich  soil  of  the  cold- 
frame.  They  wandered  about  as  if  uncertain  what 


34  FARM  SPIES 

would  be  the  best  thing  to  do.  Sometimes  several 
beetles  would  gather  near  the  same  spot  with  their 
heads  close  together.  One  morning  a  funny  thing 
happened ;  seven  of  the  beetles  had  gathered  near 
the  same  spot  with  heads  near  together.  When 
Johnny  saw  them  he  laughed  outright  and  called 
his  father.  Mr.  Drake  came,  pulled  his  spectacles 
from  his  vest  pocket,  put  them  on  his  nose,  and  slowly 
and  awkwardly  set  the  bows  over  his  ears,  in  the 
meantime  drawing  his  face  out  of  shape  as  though 
the  putting  on  of  spectacles  was  a  painful  piece  of 
work.  Johnny  got  impatient,  because  he  was  afraid 
that  the  bugs  would  leave  their  positions  before  his 
father  would  get  through  putting  his  spectacles  on. 

"  It  does  take  dad  a  long  time  to  get  ready  before 
he  can  look  at  anything  carefully,"  he  said  to  him- 
self very  impatiently. 

Mr.  Drake  at  last  got  his  spectacles  where  he 
wanted  them,  and  looked  at  the  spot  which  Johnny 
pointed  out  to  him. 

"They  must  be  plotting,"  his  father  said  in  a  low, 
careless  tone,  and  putting  his  spectacles  back  in  the 
vest  pocket  he  walked  to  the  barn,  where  he  had 
some  work  to  do.  Johnny's  eyes  followed  him, 
searching  him  from  head  to  foot  until  he  disappeared 
from  sight  through  the  barn  door;  then,  turning 
around  he  spit  on  a  chip  with  much  emphasis  and 
grumbled  to  himself:  "I  didn't  learn  much,  did  I? 


THE   BLACK   BILlr-BUG   OF   CORN 


35 


He  seemed  to  be  short  about  it.  Maybe,  though, 
he  had  had  no  opinion  about  it,  and  if  that  was  the 
case  he  said  enough."  He  looked  at  the  beetles 
again  and  they  were  still  in  the  same  position.  "I 


FIG.  17.  —  "They  must  be  plotting." 

must  be  getting  ready  for  school,'7  he  said,  and  left 
the  insects  to  themselves. 

The  next  day  Johnny  saw  that  they  were  begin- 
ning to  feed,  and  he  watched  them  as  carefully  as  he 
could  day  by  day.  They  attacked  the  tender  little 


36  FARM  SPIES 

cornstalks  near  the  surface  of  the  ground.  With 
their  beaks  they  would  slit  them  and  eat  the  juicy 
parts  on  the  inside,  which  would  soon  kill  the  bud, 
leaving  a  few  green  leaves  at  the  bottom  of  the 
stalk.  There  was  not  very  much  excitement  in  this 
for  Johnny.  "Because/'  he  said,  "the  beetles  just 
kill  the  young  corn  and  that  ends  it."  However, 
his  curiosity  had  been  aroused,  and  so  he  kept  watch- 
ing. It  was  well  that  he  did,  for  later  in  the  season 
he  had  a  chance  to  see  something  that  stirred  his 
blood.  He  saw  them  attack  the  corn  in  a  field 
where  the  plants  were  from  ten  to  twenty  inches 
high,  and  the  way  the  plants  battled  for  life  was  as 
good  an  example  of  perseverance  and  true  courage 
as  he  had  ever  read  about  in  his  books.  "And  this 
is  a  living  example  right  before  my  own  eyes,"  he 
said. 

When  the  plants  had  become  twisted  and  dis- 
torted from  the  hard  attacks  of  the  bill-bugs  and 
growth  seemed  no  longer  possible,  each  plant  threw 
out  suckers  near  the  ground  as  if  to  say,  "If  I  must 
die,  then  maybe  these  young  sprouts  will  succeed 
in  making  corn. ' '  Often  these  suckers  were  attacked, 
but  being  as  brave  as  the  old  stalks  from  which 
they  came  they  were  determined  not  to  give  up 
the  fight,  but  before  they  died  produced  a  second 
set  of  suckers.  In  their  heroic  struggle  for  life  the 
plants  continued  to  produce  suckers,  until  at  last 


THE   BLACK   BILL-BUG   OF   CORN 


37 


the  old  dying  plants  were  surrounded  by  a  mass  of 

sprouts  that  .made  the  field  look  very  odd.     Many 

of  the  plants  were  so  riddled  by  the  repeated  attacks 

of  these  pests  that  they  could  not 

succeed  in  making  grain.     Johnny 

sat  down  by  one  of  these  masses 

of  suckers   and  examined  it  very 

closely.       Looking    at    the    dying 

shoots  he  shook  his  head  gravely 

and  said  :  "  Old  fellows,  you  have 

taught  me  a  lesson  that  I  will  not 

forget  as  long  as  I  live.     You  were 

true  to  the  farmer  who  so  carefully 

prepared  the  land  and  planted  the 

seed   from  which   you   came.      He 

hoped  to  make  a  crop,  and    that 

it  cannot   be  done   is  no  fault  of 

yours.     You   fought   bravely,   but 

the  enemy  was  stronger  than  you ; 

you  had  to  go  down  in  the  'fight, 

but  you  went  down   fighting    like 

heroes." 

Johnny  found  later  that  when 
the  corn  had  grown  to  the  height  of  four  feet  the 
beetles  could  no  longer  injure  it  seriously.  He 
thought  that  the  battle  was  over,  and  was  greatly 
surprised  afterwards  when  he  found  that  he  had 
seen  only  part  of  the  fight. 


(After  Kelly,  Bur.  of  Em., 
U.  S.Dept.  Agr.) 

FIG.  18. —  "Each 
plant  threw  out 
suckers." 


38 


FARM  SPIES 


"Why,  man/'  he  said  to  his  little  friend  Willie 
Burns,  "  those  beetles  were  but  the  skirmishers  of 
the  bill-bug  army." 

He  had  forgotten  about  the  eggs  the  beetles  had 

been  laying  on  the  corn. 
He  had  noticed  the  egg- 
laying  from  June  1  to 
July  1.  The  eggs  were 
laid  in  tiny  holes  which 
the  mother  beetles  had 
made  with  their  beaks, 
and  they  had  laid  any- 
where from  one  to  ten 
eggs  in  a  stalk.  One 
reason  why  he  had  paid 
no  attention  to  this  was 


(After  Kelly,  Bur.  Ent.,  U.S.  Dept.  Agr.) 

FIG.  19.  —  "  The  eggs  were  laid  in 
tiny  holes." 


(After  Kelly,  Bur.  Ent.,  U.  S.  Dept.  Agr.) 

FIG.  20.  —  "The  eggs  had  hatched 
into  little  whitish,  humpbacked 
grubs." 


because  those  stalks  were  not  damaged  like  the 
others.  He  had  just  taken  it  for  granted  that 
these  stalks  would  go  through  the  season  safe,  but 
when  he  found  that  the  eggs  had  hatched  into  little 


THE   BLACK   BILL-BUG   OF   CORN  39 

whitish,  humpbacked  grubs  eating  the  pith  he  felt 
that  they  had  not  only  outwitted  the  corn  but 
himself  also,  and  this  hurt  him  very  much. 

The  little  grubs  were  gluttons,  eating  all  the  pith 
from  that  part  of  the  stalk  where  they  worked,  leav- 
ing only  the  outer  woody  wall  of  the  stalk.  This, 
of  course,  cut  off  the  flow  of  sap  and  killed  the 
plants.  It  was  a  dry  season,  and  the  attacks  were 
so  deadly  that  much  of  the  corn  was  killed  even 
after  silking  and  tasseling. 

"  This  beats  everything," 
said  Johnny  ;  "they  played 
it  on  me  this  time,  but  I  am 

(After  Kelly,  Bur.  Ent.,  U.  S.  Dept.  Agr.) 

going  to  Watch  them  Closely  FIG.  21.  — "They  changed  to 
after  this,  and  if  they  do  the  quiet  or  pupa  stage." 

succeed  in  '  stealing  another  march  on  me/  it  will 
not  be  on  account  of  my  being  asleep." 

Johnny  did  see  their  next  move,  but  it  was  not 
until  they  had  become  full-grown  grubs.  They 
made  little  cells  from  chewed  pith  in  the  stalks  and 
in  them  they  changed  to  the  quiet  or  pupa  stage. 
Johnny  had  read  about  such  things  in  his  books, 
but  this  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  seen  it. 
From  these  pupae  the  full-grown  bill-bugs  escaped. 
Few  of  them  came  out  of  the  stalks,  and  as  winter 
approached  nine  out  of  every  ten  beetles  remained 
in  the  stalks  just  as  Johnny  had  found  their  parents 
in  the  corn  stubble  last  January. 


40  FARM  SPIES 

When  Johnny  told  Mr.  Welden  what  he  had  seen, 
the  old  man  asked  :  " Where  do  they  stay?  I  have 
never  been  able  to  find  any." 

Johnny  answered:  "The  beetles  are  unlike  boys, 
because  these  little  pests  are  early  risers.  They 
enjoy  a  good  breakfast  and  supper,  but  during  the 
hotter  parts  of  the  day  they  hide  in  shade  or  just 
underneath  the  soil  at  the  base  of  the  plants. " 

"That  must  be  the  reason  that  I  never  saw  them ; 
I  looked  at  the  wrong  time  of  the  day/'  Mr.  Welden 
replied.  "But  see  here,  sonny,"  he  continued;  "it 
seems  to  me  that  when  we  move  the  stalks  from  the 
field  after  harvest  we  are  taking  the  beetles  with 
them  ;  don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Right  there  is  where  the  the  beetles  get  the  best 
of  us,  because  they  do  not  stay  in  the  stalks.  I  have 
cut  hundreds  of  them  open  and  never  found  a  single 
insect,  but  if  you  will  cut  open  the  stubble  or  root, 
you  will  have  no  trouble  finding  them.  When  we 
carry  our  stalks  away  we  must  take  stubbles  and 
roots  also,"  Johnny  explained. 

Old  Mr.  Welden  was  now  as  tickled  as  a  school- 
boy who  has  had  good  luck.  He  had  such  a  broad 
grin  on  his  face  that  Johnny  wondered  how  he  could 
do  it  without  hurting  his  face. 

"Sonny,"  he  said,  "do  you  remember  when  I  told 
you  to  destroy  your  corn  stubble?  I  have  farmed 
all  my  life  and  I  have  noticed  that  where  you  leave 


THE   BLACK  BILL-BUG  OF   CORN 


41 


the  stubble  during  the  winter  the  bugs  are  worse 
on  your  corn  the  next  year.  I  was  not  able  to 
'ferret7  it  out,  but  you  see  now  that  the  old  man  was 
right.  And  I  can  tell  you  another  thing,  sonny; 
I  never  plant  corn  where  I  had  corn  the  year  before, 


FIG.  22.  —  "I  have  made  crops  when  others  failed." 

and  whenever  I  can  do  it  I  plant  as  far  away  as 
possible  from  where  corn  was  before.  You  don't 
believe  that  this  is  important,  do  you?" 

"I  do,  Mr.  Welden,"  Johnny  replied;    "you  are 
one  of  the  very  best  farmers  of  this  section,  and  I 


42  FARM  SPIES 

have  seen  you  make  crops  when  the  other  farmers 
failed.  I  like  to  hear  you  talk." 

"I  always  knew  that  you  were  a  sensible  boy/7 
said  Mr.  Welden;  "and  now  let  the  old  man  tell 
you  another  thing.  .  I  have  made  crops  when  others 
failed  because  I  had  planted  my  corn  just  as  early 
as  it  was  safe  from  frost  in  March.  You  can't 
always  do  it  on  account  of  weather,  but  whenever 
I  can  do  it  the  bill-bugs  won't  get  my  corn  as  bad 
as  that  which  is  planted  later." 

"Is  that  so?"   Johnny  inquired. 

"That  is  so,  Johnny,  and  now  I  have  to  be  going. 
You  take  what  I  told  you  and  make  your  pa  put 
it  in  his  pipe  and  smoke  it."  At  this  they  both 
laughed  heartily  and  parted. 

"Mr.  Welden  is  a  good  friend  and  he  is  a  smart 
man,  too,"  Johnny  mused  as  he  was  walking  down 
the  road.  Suddenly. he  stopped  as  if  he  had  for- 
gotten something.  "What  about  that  early  plant- 
ing for  bill-bugs?  I  bet  I  know.  If  you  can  get 
your  corn  to  silking  and  tasseling  before  the  beetles 
lay  their  eggs,  the  corn  is  then  strong  enough  to  win 
the  battle."  He  walked  on  some  distance  when  he 
suddenly  stopped  again.  "What  did  that  speaker 
say  at  the  farmers'  meeting  last  month?  He  said 
'  the  right  planting  date  for  bill-bugs  often  is  food  for 
bud-worms.'  What  did  he  mean?  Gosh!  there  is 
a  lot  to  be  learned  yet  about  this  bug  business,  but 
I  bet  I'll  know  that  too,  some  day." 


WHEN   CORN   IS  FOX-EARED 

DID  you  ever  see  fox-eared  corn?  If  not,  then 
you  must  go  to  the  cornfield  in  April  when  the 
plants  are  still  small  and  you  will  surely  see  it. 
You  may  not  see  any  on  uplands,  but  if  you  will  go 
to  a  creek-bottom,  or  some  other  low  place,  you 
will  have  no  trouble  finding  them.  You  may  not 
call  sueh  plants  fox-eared,  but  John  Grimes  and 
many  other  good  farmers  do. 

John  Grimes  lives  on  his  farm  in  the  northern 
part  of  South  Carolina.  He  is  a  very  tall  man  with 
square  shoulders  and  he  has  the  longest  beard  that 
we  have  ever  seen.  Should  any  of  you  ever  pass  him 
on  the  street  we  are  sure  that  you  would  stop  for  a 
second  look,  for  such  men  are  not  often  seen.  He 
has  three  boys,  Fred,  Harry,  and  Joe ;  and  when 
any  one  who  knows  their  father  meets  them,  he 
knows  immediately  that  they  are  John  Grimes's 
boys  because  they  look  so  much  like  their  father. 
All  the  neighbors  say  that  Mr.  Grimes  is  a  good 
farmer  and  one  of  the  best  neighbors  any  one  could 
have.  He  would  go  out  of  his  way  day  or  night  to 
do  you  a  favor,  and  his  boys  are  just  like  him. 

43 


44  FARM  SPIES 

They  love  the  farm  and  are  a  great  help  to  their 
father.  Hardly  a  day  passes,  when  they  are  out  in 
the  field,  that  he  does  not  tell  the  boys  something 
new  about  plant-growth,  birds,  or  insects. 

One  night  in  April  there  was  a  nice  warm  rain  and 
Mr.  Grimes  was  pleased.  "This  will  make  the  corn 
grow,  boys,"  he  said  the  next  morning  when  he 
came  to  breakfast.  It 'being  too  wet  to  work  in  the 
field  he  walked  over  the  farm,  but  when  he  returned 
he  looked  as  if  something  had  gone  wrong.  "A  lot 
of  our  corn  is  fox-eared,"  he  said  to  the  boys  in  the 
yard.  "As  soon  as  the  ground  dries  off  we  must 
take  the  planters  and  replant  all  the  fox-eared 
stalks." 

The  boys  looked  at  him  for  some  time  as  if  to 
ask,  "What  is  fox-eared  corn?"  At  last  Freddie 
said,  "We  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"If  you  will  come  with  me,  I  will  show  you," 
the  father  replied.  Soon  they  were  on  their  way,  and 
when  they  reached  the  cornfield  they  saw  the  rows 
of  young  corn  and  they  thought  it  a  pretty  sight. 
"They  are  cute  little  plants,"  Harry  exclaimed. 
"Look  at  their  leaves;  they  remind  me  of  the  big 
feathers  in  our  white  rooster's  tail.  Don't  they  you  ?  " 

Fred  and  Joe  agreed,  with  a  laugh. 

"That  is  right,"  said  the  father,  "and  those  are 
healthy  plants,  that  will  grow,  but  there  are  many 
that  do  not  carry  their  leaves  that  way." 


WHEN   CORN   IS   FOX-EARED  45 

"Here  is  one,  is  it  not?  "  said  Joe.  "Look  at  it ; 
the  leaves  are  standing  up  almost  straight.  What 
is  the  matter  with  it?" 

Their  father  asked  them  to  walk  over  the  field 
with  him  to  find  out  whether  there  were  many 
plants  like  it.  As  they  were  walking  over  the  hill, 
they  saw  very  few,  but  when  they  arrived  in  the 
bottoms  they  saw  many  with  straight  leaves. 

"Now/'  said 
the  father,  "all 
the  plants  that 
you  see  with  the 
leaves  standing 
up  and  not  drop- 
ping like  the  big 
tail  feathers  of  our 
white  rooster,  I 

Call  fox-eared,  and       FIG.   23.  —  "They   remind   me  of   the   big 

feathers  in  our  white  rooster's  tail." 

they    will    never 

produce  corn  ;  we  might  as  well  replant  them  now." 

"They  surely  have  their  leaves  standing  up  like 
the  ears  of  a  fox/'  Freddie  remarked.  "What  makes 
them  fox-eared?"  he  asked. 

"Worms  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  stalk,"  their 
father  replied. 

"If  we  replant  them  now,  won't  the  worms  get 
into  the  young  plants  that  come  from  the  replanted 
seed?"  the  boys  asked. 


46 


FARM  SPIES 


"I  never  knew  it/'  their  father  answered,  almost 
as  if  angry. 

The  boys  thought  it  very  strange  that  these 
worms  would  not  attack  the  young  corn  coming 
from  the  replanted  seed. 


FIG.  24.  —  "What  makes  them  fox-eared?" 

"  Why  don't  you  find  the  worms  in  all  the  plants  ?  " 
Joe  asked. 

"I  guess  it  is  because  there  are  not  quite 
enough  worms/'  Mr.  Grimes  replied  with  a  sickly 
smile. 

So  the  boys  returned  from  the  field  where  they 
had  seen  fox-eared  corn,  caused  by  worms  down  in 


WHEN   CORN   IS   FOX-EARED  47 

the  bottoms  of  the  little  stalks.  They  talked  about 
it  all  that  day,  and  that  evening  they  told  Mr. 
Smith,  the  demonstration  agent,  when  he  visited 
at  their  home.  Mr.  Smith  smiled,  because  he  had 
never  heard  such  corn  called  fox-eared,  but  said, 
"That  is  a  very  good  name  for  it."  Boylike  they 
told  Mr.  Smith  all  they  knew  about  it,  and  when  he 
saw  that  their  father  looked  so  grave  about  it  he 
was  ready  to  believe  that  the  worms  were  doing 
very  serious  damage. 

The  next  morning  before  taking  time  to  find  out 
how  much  damage  the  worms  were  doing,  he  saddled 
his  horse  and  rode  over  to  Mr.  Watson's  farm,  where 
an  entomologist  was  studying  another  pest.  Mr. 
Smith  explained  to  him  what  he  had  been  told  about 
the  worms  in  Mr.  Grimes's  field.  "It  has  spoiled 
his  stand  of  corn  and  much  of  it  has  to  be  replanted, " 
he  said. 

The  insect  man,  whose  name  was  Henry  Colby, 
went  with  him,  and  together  they  looked  at  the  corn. 
Mr.  Colby  pulled  up  some  of  the  plants  with  great 
care,  examined  the  roots  and  also  that  part  of 
the  plant  which  had  been  underground;  then  he 
looked  at  the  rest  of  the  plant.  With  his  pocket 
knife  he  split  the  stem,  and  with  a  smile  he  laid  the 
plant  in  Mr.  Smith's  hand.  "Just  what  I  thought," 
he  said. 

"A   worm,"    Mr.    Smith   said,    surprised.      "Mr. 


48  FARM  SPIES 

Grimes  was  right,  then ;  he  said  it  was  a  worm,  and 
so  did  the  boys.  What  is  it?  " 

"It  is  the  bud-worm  of  corn,"  Mr.  Colby  replied. 

The  boys  and  their  father,  having  seen  Mr. 
Colby  and  the  demonstrator  enter  the  field,  had 
come  and  joined  them  because  they  were  anxious 
to  learn  something  about  the  worms. 

"  Why  do  you  call  it  the  bud-worm  ?  "  they  asked 
Mr.  Colby. 

"They  do  not  seem  to  be  in  the  bud,  but  in  the 
plant  below  the  ground/'  Mr.  Smith  remarked  at 

the  same  time  when  the 

^^^^^^^^^^^^         others  asked  their  ques- 

(After  Chittenden,  Bur.  Ent.,  U.  S.  Dept.  Agr.)      tlOn. 

FIG.  25.  — "it  is  the  bud-worm  of        Mr.  Colby  then  told 

corn."  .     m 

them  that  the  injury  to 

the  bud  was  not  from  the  outside  like  a  worm  eating 
the  leaves,  but  from  the  inside  where  one  cannot  see 
it  without  cutting  the  plant.  "These  little  worms," 
he  continued,  "known  as  larvaa,  because  they  are 
the  young  of  insects,  and  are  not  really  worms,  bore 
into  the  tender  stalk  of  the  young  corn  plant, 
usually  at  the  base  where  the  roots  come  out.  There 
they  feed,  cutting  off  all  of  the  inside  of  the  stalk 
except  one  or  two  of  the  outer  layers,  and  this  causes 
the  bud  to  die,  leaving  one  or  two  green  leaves  at 
the  bottom  of  the  stalk  standing  up  like  the  ears  of 
the  fox.  After  killing  the  bud,  the  larvae  feed 


WHEN   CORN   IS   FOX-EARED 


49 


upwards  or  they  may  feed  downwards  into  the  root. 
No  matter  in  what  direction  they  feed,  the  small  bud 
dies  and  the  growth  of 
the  plant  is  stopped,  and 
this  is  the  reason  why  we 
call  them  bud-worms." 

"Oh,  we  see  now/7 
said  the  boys;  "when 
we  gathered  our  corn 
last  fall  we  saw  holes 
in  the  grown  stalks,  and 
when  we  cut  the  stalks 
open  we  found  worms  in 
them  and  they  must 
have  been  bud-worms." 

"No,  they  were  not ;   they  were  corn-stalk  borers, 
and   were   very   different   from   these  bud-worms," 


(After  CMttedaen,  Bur.  Ent.,  U.  8.  Dept.  Agr.) 

FIG.    26.  —  "Usually    at    the    base 
where  the  roots  come  out." 


FIG.  27.  —  "No,  they  were  not ;    they  were  corn-stalk  borers." 

Mr.   Colby  explained.       "After  young    corn-plants 
have    grown    about    twelve    inches    high    and    are 


50  FARM   SPIES 

healthy,  these  bud-worms  can  no  longer  seriously 
harm  them.  They  merely  gnaw  the  outer  skin 
about  the  same  place  as  in  the  young  corn,  as  you 
see  here.  In  some  cases  it  checks  the  growth,  but 
it  is  rare  that  it  kills  the  plant,  and  the  larvae  never 
reach  the  soft  inside  part  or  pith  of  the  stalk." 

"You  speak  of  it  as  the  larva  of  an  insect,  Mr. 
Colby;  what  insect  is  it  that  makes  the  larva?" 
Mr.  Smith  asked. 

Mr.  Colby  then  told  him  that  the  insects  making 
the  bud-worms  are  the  common  twelve-spotted 
cucumber-beetles  which,  no  doubt,  they  all  had 
seen  many  times  in  their  gardens.  "  There  is  one 
now,  sitting  under  that  clod;  see  it?"  Mr.  Colby 
said,  pointing  to  the  ground. 

Yes,  they  all  saw  it,  and  then  they  remembered 
that  they  had  seen  thousands  of  them  before. 

"  We  never  knew  that  this  beetle  injured  corn  ! "  they 
all  exclaimed.  "Why,"  said  Joe,  "I  have  seen  them 
everywhere,  in  our  orchard  and  garden,  and  last  year, 
I  remember  I  saw  a  lot  of  them  in  Aunt  SalhVs  flower 
garden  in  the  city,  but  I  had  no  idea  at  that  time  that 
they  were  such  rogues."  At  this  they  all  laughed. 

"They  looked  very  good,  didn't  they,  Joe  ?  "  Mr. 
Colby  said;  "but  remember  after  this  when  you 
meet  them  that  they  are  not  as  innocent  as  they 
appeared  to  be  when  you  saw  them  in  that  flower 
garden,  but  they  are  the  cause  of  much  loss 


WHEN   CORN   IS   FOX-EARED 


51 


(After  CMttenden,  Bur. 
Ent.,  U.S.Dept.Agr.) 

FIG.  28.  —  "They 
change  to  a  rest- 
ing stage,  called 
pupa." 


to  farmers  by  laying   their  eggs,  which  make  the 

little  bud-worms  in    the    corn.     The  eggs  are  laid 

by  the  mother  beetle  in  the  soil  at 

the  base   of   the   young  corn-plants. 

The    eggs    hatch    into    little    worms, 

such  as  you  see  here,  which  bore  into 

the  tender  stalks  and  kill  the  buds  as 

I  have  told  you.    When  they  become 

full-grown  larvae  they  leave  the  stalk 

and  make  a  small  earthen  cell  in  the 

soil  near  by.     Inside  of  this  cell  they 

change  to  a  resting-stage  called  pupa. 

During  this  resting-stage  they  are  really  not  resting, 
just  because  they  are  so  still,  but 
a  great  change  takes  place.  You 
remember  the  little  verse  you  learned 
in  school?  It  says, 

"  Action  is  not  always  gain, 
Crystals  form  when  left  at  rest." 

"  During  the  pupa  stage  they  change 
from  the  simple  little  larva,  such  as 
you  see  here,  to  a  beautiful  twelve- 
spotted    cucumber-beetle    having 
wings,  wing  covers,  feelers,  and  legs ; 
after  a  week  or  ten  days  this  little 
cell  opens,  and  instead  of  a  little  bud-worm  wiggling 
out  of  it,  as  you  would  suppose,  there  crawls  out  of 
it  an  active  beetle!" 


(After  CMttenden,  Bur. 
Ent.,  U.S.Dept.Agr.) 

FIG.  29.  — "There 
crawls  out  of  it 
an  active  beetle. " 


52  FARM   SPIES 

"They  had  all  listened  to  Mr.  Colby  with  intense 
interest,  and  when  he  finished  they  stood  spell- 
bound. After  a  few  seconds,  Mr.  Smith  broke  the 
silence  by  asking, 

"Where  do  they  stay  in  winter  when  no  corn  is 
to  be  had?'7 

"In  this  part  of  the  country  they  do  not  go  into 
real  winter  quarters,  like  so  many  other  kinds  of 
insects,  but  when  cold  weather  begins  they  find 
shelter  under  the  leaves  of  weeds  and  other  suitable 
places,  and  from  there  they  come  out  and  feed 
during  warm  weather.  They  - 

"What  can  they  feed  on  in  winter ?"  Mr.  Smith 
interrupted. 

Mr.  Colby  explained,  "There  are  several  food 
plants,  but  there  are  two  kinds  of  wild  weeds  known 
as  life  everlasting,  which  are  common  on  the  farms 
of  this  section  throughout  the  winter ;  during  warm 
spells  these  furnish  food,  and  during  cold  weather 
their  leaves  furnish  shelter  for  the  insects." 

"Then  it  looks  to  me  as  if  there  is  no  way  of 
getting  rid  of  these  little  pests,"  Mr.  Smith  com- 
plained. 

"It  is  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,"  Mr.  Colby  re- 
plied ;  "it  is  very  important  where  they  give  trouble 
that  the  corn  be  planted  at  the  right  time  to  prevent 
damage." 

"That  sounds  good  enough,  Mr.  Colby,  but  how 


WHEN   CORN  IS   FOX-EARED  53 

do  we  know  when  the  right  time  has  arrived?" 
Mr.  Smith  asked. 

"This  must  be  determined  for  the  different  sec- 
tions of  the  South,"  Mr.  Colby  told  them;  "in  this 
section  we  have  studied  the  life  and  habits  of  this 
insect  very  carefully  and  find  that  the  first  eggs  are 
laid  early  in  March  and  hatch  during  the  first  week 
in  April.  The  earthen  cells  and  pupae  have  been 
formed  about  May  19,  and  the  full-grow'n  beetles 
come  out  beginning  about  May  24.  Now,  if  the 
weather  is  such  that  you  can  plant  in  March,  the 
corn  has  a  chance  to  get  a  good  start  before  the 
worms  can  do  severe  injury." 

"  How  about  planting  in  April  ?  "  Mr.  Grimes  asked. 

"I  have  just  said  that  the  eggs  hatch  during  the 
first  days  of  April,  and  to  plant  your  corn  at  that 
time  would  be  like  feeding  the  worms,  don't  you 
see  ?  If  you  wait  until  the  worms  have  become  full 
grown  or  have  changed  to  pupae,  they  do  not  feed, 
and  that  is  a  good  time  to  plant,  to  give  the  corn  a 
chance  to  get  a  good  start.  In  this  section  they 
change  to  the  pupaa,  as  I  have  said,  on  May  19,  and 
for  that  reason  about  May  19  would  be  a  safe  date 
to  plant  to  avoid  injury." 

My  brother,  who  lives  in  the  southern  part  of 
this  state,  has  this  trouble  also ;  would  you  recom- 
mend the  same  date  for  him?"  Mr.  Grimes  asked. 

Mr.  Colby  replied,  "In  the  middle  portion  of  our 


54 


FARM   SPIES 


state  the  pupae  is  formed  about  May  12,  and  in  the 
southern  portion  about  May  5.  We  should  say 
then  that  the  dates  should  be  as  follows  where  one 
cannot  plant  early : 

Upper  South  Carolina,  May  19. 

Middle  South  Carolina,  May  12. 

Lower  South  Carolina,  May  5. 


FIQ.  30.  —  "Here  is  a  map." 

"Here  is  a  map  we  have  prepared  for  farmers  in 
this  state  who  lose  corn  by  bud-worms."  Mr.  Colby 
handed  Mr.  Grimes  a  map. 

During  the  last  four  years  Mr.  Grimes  has  been 
very  careful  about  the  time  he  plants  his  corn. 
Not  only  has  he  learned  how  to  escape  bud-worm 


WHEN   CORN  IS   FOX-EARED  55 

injury,  but  the  knowledge  gained  that  day  in  the 
old  cornfield  .has  set  him  to  thinking,  and  you  see 
improvements  on  his  farm  and  in  his  farm-practice 
everywhere.  The  neighbors  have  noticed  it,  and 
often  come  to  ask  him  questions  or  talk  over  their 
farm  problems  with  him.  Always  ready  to  help  his 
neighbors,  always  willing  to  listen  to  what  others 
say,  and  always  ready  for  improvements,  he  has 
become  a  great  leader  in  his  section.  Should  you 
ever  meet  him,  be  sure  to  ask  him  whether  he  is 
losing  much  corn  from  bud-worms.  The  big  bearded 
face  will  smile  all  over,  and  he  will  answer  you,  "I 
am  losing  very  little  corn  from  bud-worms  now. 
They  used  to  do  me  a  great  amount  of  damage,  but 
I  learned  how  to  outwit  them.  Plant  early  if  you 
can,  but  if  the  weather  does  not  let  you  do  that, 
then  plant  at  the  right  time." 

Then  he  thoughtfully  strokes  his  long  beard,  and 
turns  his  face  toward  the  old  cornfield  where  he  met 
Mr.  Colby  some  years  ago. 


THE  BLACK  CORN-WEEVIL 

THE  town  of  Flanders  and  the  country  around  it 
has  always  been  known  for  its  good  people.  Old 
Uncle  Jerry  Miller  was  born  and  reared  just  one 
mile  east  of  town  many,  many  years  ago  on  his 
father's  farm,  and  he  has  lived  and  farmed  on  the 
old  place  all  his  life.  Uncle  Jerry  knows  everybody 
in  town  and  every  farmer  in  the  country  around  it, 
and  all  the  people  know  him.  It  was  he  who  said, 
"  There  is  no  finer  country  than  that  around  Flanders. 
It  is  level  and  the  soil  does  not  wash  away  as  it 
does  on  the  hillsides.  I  would  not  live  in  a  hilly 
country  anyway,  because  it  seems  to  me  that  people 
must  be  wearing  themselves  out  walking  up  the  hills 
and  then  down  again.  We  have  good  churches,  fine 
schools,  and  first-class  people.  Everybody  says  so. 
The  people  here  have  a  lot  of  sense,  too.  Talk  about 
farming,  our  people  have  always  known  better  than 
to  raise  nothing  but  cotton  and  wear  the  land  out. 
Our  farmers  raise  corn,  oats,  and  hay ;  and  there  is 
not  a  home  near  or  in  Flanders  that  hasn't  a  family 
garden.  The  farmers  plow  intelligently  and  they 
are  always  ready  to  learn ;  they  are  not  the  kind 
who  think  they  know  it  all." 

56 


THE   BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL  57 

Uncle  Jerry  spoke  the  truth  when  he  said  that  the 
people  planted  other  things  than  cotton.  They 
always  made  good  corn-crops  and  were  proud  of  it. 
They  always  made  as  good  corn-crops  as  were  made 
anywhere,  but  they  could  not  keep  the  corn  because 
an  army  of  black  weevils  had  come  into  their  corn- 
fields from  somewhere  and  caused  much  loss  to  the 
golden  ears.  The  habits  of  these  little  pests  were  so 
different  from  any  they  had  ever  found  it  necessary 
to  fight,  that  the  farmers  did 
not  know  what  to  do.  In 
the  fields,  as  well  as  in  the 
cribs,  these  little  rogues 
would  stay  in  hiding  under 

the      Shucks      like      SO       many  (After  Cmtenden,  Bur.  Ent.,U.S. 

bandits    in    ambush.      Un-    FIG.  3i.—  "Soldier   of   this 

black  weevil  army." 

seen,    every   soldier   of   this 

black  weevil  army  was  busily  eating  into  the  kernels 
of  the  corn,  and  the  farmers  felt  very  bad  about  it. 
Every  day  you  would  hear  some  one  say,  "If  some- 
body does  not  find  some  way  of  stopping  these  little 
black  thieves,  then  all  our  corn  will  be  eaten  in  the 
crib." 

"In  the  crib!"  exclaimed  John  Matthews,  who 
was  one  of  the  best  farmers  of  Flanders;  "it  is  not 
in  the  crib  alone  that  they  do  so  much  damage, 
but  I  know  when  I  gathered  my  corn  in  my  river 
bottoms  last  month  they  had  eaten  into  some  of 


58 


FARM  SPIES 


the  kernels  on  nearly  every  ear,  and  some  ears  were 
not  worth  hauling  into  the  crib." 

' '  Shucks, ' '  said  Fred  Hamilt on , ' '  I  never  saw  them  in 
the  corn  in  the  field ;  you  must  be  mistaken,  John." 

"Mistaken?"  answered  John ;  "it  seems  that  you 
do  not  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  Fred. 


(After  Smith,  N.  C.  Exp.  Sta.) 
FIG.  32.  —  "And  some  ears  were  not  worth  hauling  into  the  crib." 

They  were  in  every  field  of  corn  I  examined  a  couple 
of  weeks  ago  before  any  of  the  corn  of  this  section 
was  put  into  the  cribs." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  I  do  remember  having  heard 
some  people  say  that  the  weevils  were  eating  their 
corn  in  the  field,"  said  Fred. 

"You  must  have,"  said  John,  "because  everybody 
has  been  talking  about  it."  And  so  they  agreed  that 


THE  BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL  59 

this  pest  was  becoming  more  destructive  every  year 
and  that  it  was  necessary  to  have  something  done 
to  save  the  corn. 

Joe  Henderson,  the  bank  president,  had  listened 
to  these  complaints  about  the  weevils.  Mr.  Hen- 
derson was  a  successful  banker  and  farmer ;  he  was 
more  than  that,  for  he  was  a  fine  business  man  who 
was  big  enough  to  have  the  interest  of  his  community 
at  heart.  Everybody  knew  this,  and  whenever  he 
spoke,  the  people  listened.  One  day  they  had  a 
meeting  to  discuss  ways  for  getting  rid  of  the  weevils. 

Mr.  Henderson  said,  "  Gentlemen,  corn  is  a  great 
crop  and  must  be  saved.  Every  other  crop  must  be 
saved,  and  the  business  men  of  Flanders  will  help 
you.  This  is  a  farming  section,  and  the  success  of 
this  town  and  its  business  men  depends  on  the  crops 
made  by  the  farmers  of  the  surrounding  country. 
Without  the  backing  of  the  farms  this  town  could 
not  be  here,  and  now  the  people  of  this  town  must 
help  the  farmers  to  find  some  way  of  getting  rid  of 
this  pest.  The  step  for  us  to  take  right  now  is  to  get 
an  entomologist  down  here  to  study  this  black  weevil, 
and  maybe  he  can  find  out  how  to  kill  the  thief." 

"An  entomologist.?"  asked  Bob  Griggs.  "What 
is  that?" 

"It  treats  of  the  structure  of  words,  Bob,"  ex- 
claimed Ben  Gray,  anxious  to  show  what  he  knew. 

Several  who  knew  better  laughed  outright,  and 


60  FARM   SPIES 

this  made  Ben  very  angry.  "What  are  you  laughing 
at?  "  he  retorted,  turning  red  in  the  face.  "The  dic- 
tionary says  that  it  is  the  derivation  of  words ;  I 
looked  it  up  —  now  laugh,  will  you?  " 

This  had  the  effect  of  making  them  laugh  louder, 
which,  in  turn,  made  Ben's  face  turn  redder. 

Mr.  Henderson  relieved  Ben  when  he  said,  "You 
are  thinking  of  etymologist;  I  said  entomologist, 
which  is  taken  from  the  Greek  entom,  meaning  insect, 
and  logos,  a  study.  An  entomologist  is  one  who 
studies  insects." 

"I  never  knew  that  there  were  men  who  made  it  a 
business  to  study  insects,"  said  Bob  Griggs. 

"Yes,  sir,  they  are  called  entomologists,"  Mr. 
Henderson  replied. 

Soon  after  this  meeting  an  entomologist  arrived 
at  Flanders  who  worked  like  a  trained  spy  among 
the  black  bandits.  The  weevils  were  at  work  every- 
where, on  the  low  wet  bottom-fields,  on  uplands, 
in  near-by  woods,  but  the  entomologist  was  there 
also,  and  it  was  a  common  sight  to  see  him  crawling 
out  of  a  crib  with  corn  silk  over  his  face  and  clothing. 
After  he  had  worked  a  long  time  and  had  studied 
the  habits  and  lives  of  the  pests,  he  asked  the 
farmers  and  business  men  to  meet  at  the  corn-crib 
on  Jack  Smith's  place  on  the  following  Saturday 
morning  at  ten  o'clock  sharp,  when  he  would  tell 
them  what  he  had  found  out  about  the  weevils. 


62  FARM   SPIES 

At  the  day  and  time  set  for  '  the  meeting  the 
farmers  came  from  far  and  near,  over  all  kinds  of 
roads,  some  on  horseback,  others  on  foot,  and  others 
came  in  big  farm  wagons.  Some  of  the  business 
men  came  in  automobiles.  Jack  said  that  his  big 
grove  back  of  the  barn  was  " chuck"  full  of  mules, 
wagons,  automobiles,  and  people.  He  said,  "I  am 
sure  glad  that  my  place  is  a  little  hilly,  for  if  it  were 
flat  there  would  not  be  room  for  them  all." 

The  entomologist  came  out  of  the  crib  and  spoke 

to  them:  "This 
black  weevil  is  by 
far  the  worst  enemy 
the  corn  crop  around 
here  has  to  face. 

FIG.  34.  —  "Into  these  they  lay  their  eggs." 


how  these  pests  keep  up  their  great  numbers. 
The  females  bore  little  holes  into  the  kernels, 
and  into  these  they  lay  their  eggs.  One  egg  is 
laid  in  each  hole,  and  the  mother  does  everything 
she  can  so  that  no  harm  will  come  to  the  eggs  or 
the  little  grubs  that  hatch  from  them.  The  holes 
into  which  the  eggs  are  laid  the  mother  drills  with 
her  little  beak,  which  looks  like  a  tiny  elephant's 
trunk.  The  mouth  being  at  the  end  of  the  beak 
makes  it  a  very  handy  tool  for  digging.  They  make 
the  hole  as  deep  as  the  beak  is  long,  and  then  the 
mother  moves  forward  and  puts  into  it  her  egg- 


THE   BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL 


63 


guide  or  sting  and  the  egg  is  pushed  down  into  the 
hole.  The  sides  of  the  hole  are  not  straight,  as  some 
of  you  may  think,  but  the  cavity  has  the  shape  of 
a  hen's  egg  with  the  larger  end  down  in  the  kernel." 

"If  the  opening  of  the  cavity  is  smaller  than  the 
cavity,  how  can  the  weevil  put  her  egg  into  it? 
Either  the  eggs  must 
be  soft  or  the  cavi- 
ties are  bigger  than 
they  need  be/'  Sam 
Sprague  remarked. 

"Both  of  your 
ideas  are  correct," 
the  entomologist  an- 
swered. "The  eggs 
are  soft  so  that  they 
can  be  squeezed 
through  the  opening, 
and  they  do  not  quite 
fill  the  cavity." 

"  Ha,  ha,  she  don't  make  good  fits,  then,  does  she  ?" 
Sam  laughed. 

"Oh,  yes  she  does,"  the  entomologist  answered, 
"but  she  makes  the  cavities  of  that  shape  and  size 
purposely,  and  I  am  sure  it  prevents  the  egg  from 
being  pushed  out  when  the  corn  dries  and  shrinks. 
The  eggs  do  not  touch  the  walls  of  the  cavity  at  all 
points,  and  this  is  of  help  to  the  little  grubs  when 


FIG.  35.—  "The  sides  of  the  hole  are 
not  straight,  as  some  may  think." 


64 


FARM  SPIES 


(After  Smith,  N.  C. 
Exp.  Sta.) 


working  their  way  out  of  the  eggshell  at  hatching 
time.  When  the  egg  has  been  pushed  into  place, 
the  mother  seals  the  opening  of  the 
cavity  and  that  hides  the  egg  and 
young  grub  from  enemies  that  might 
be  lurking  about  the  corn." 

"You  mean  to  say  that  the  little 
FIG.  36.— "They    white  grubs  you  find  in  the  corn  are 

are  white,  hump- 
backed, and  leg-     the  young    of    the    black    weevils? 

asked  Sam  Dixon. 

"Most  of  the  grubs  you  find  around  here  are/' 
the  entomologist  replied,  "but  there  are  a  number  of 
white  grubs  in  corn  that 
do  not  make  weevils.  You 
can  tell  the  weevil  grubs 
without  any  trouble  be- 
cause they  are  white,  hump- 
backed, and  legless.  The 
grubs  eat  the  inside  of  the 
grain,  and  when  they 
become  full  grown  they 
change  to  a  quiet  or  resting- 
stage,  called  pupa,  and  from 
this  pupa  the  full-grown 
weevil  comes.  In  warm 
weather  the  time  required 
from  egg  to  full-grown  insect  is  from  five  to  seven 
weeks,  but  in  cool  weather  a  longer  time  is  required." 


FIG.  37.—  "The  grubs  eat  the 
inside  of  the  grain." 


THE   BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL 


65 


"It  puzzles  me/'  Sam  Dixon  interrupted,  "how 
these  little  mischief-makers  can  eat  the  inside  of 
the  seed,  and  yet  when  I  plant  it 
most  of  the  seed  comes  up.  It 
would  seem  that  they  would  kill 

the  germ/  ' 

"Vp«a    vrm   hpf  "  FranV    TTnrm'l 

ies,  yo      et, 

ton  added,  "I  have  noticed  that 
weevily  seed  will  come  up  pretty  well,  but  it  does 
not  make  a  stand  of  corn  like  sound  seed." 

"That  is  what  I  say/'  Bill  Green  spoke  up.  "I 
have  found  that  out,  and  I  will  not  plant  any  more 
corn  that  has  weevils  in  it." 


(4fler  Hinds,  Ala.  Exp.  Sta.) 
FIG.  38.  —  "  From  this 

pupa  the  full.grown 
weevil  comes." 


FIG.  39.  —  "Weevily  seed  will  not  do  as  well  as  clean  seed." 


"Very  often  the  weevils  will  not  hurt  the  germ," 
said  the  entomologist,  "but  the  gentlemen  are  right 


66  FARM   SPIES 

when  they  say  that  weevily  seed  will  not  do  as  well 
as  clean  seed.  The  fleshy  part  of  the  seed  is  the  young 
corn  plant's  first  food  when  it  comes  up,  and  when 
this  is  taken  away  the  young  plants  will  be  weak 
and  often  die." 

"It  has  been  found  that  corn  which  ripens  late 
is  less  damaged  in  the  field  than  early  corn/'  the 
entomologist  continued. 

"That  is  a  good  point.  I  am  going  to  plant  late 
corn  after  this/'  said  Tom  Jackson. 

"Go  easy,  Mr.  Jackson/'  said  the  entomologist; 
"you  are  dealing  with  an  army  of  bandits  too  wise 
to  be  easily  fooled.  If  you  planted  late  corn  only,  I 
am  sure  you  would  find  the  damage  greater  than  we 
found  it  where  both  early  and  late  corn  occurred. 
We  believe  that  the  early  corn  could  be  used  as  a 
trap  to  attract  the  weevils  when  they  appear  in  the 
field  to  lay  their  eggs.  The  early  corn  would  be 
ready  for  them,  while  the  late  corn  would  not  be. 
If  there  were  no  early  corn,  we  are  sure  that  this 
would  not  cause  the  weevils  to  starve.  It  might  be 
well  to  plant  late  corn  for  your  main  crop  and  plant 
early  corn  for  the  weevils.  Of  course  this  trap  corn 
should  be  gathered  by  itself  and  not  stored  in  the 
same  crib  with  the  main  crop." 

"Why  not  store  it  in  the  same  crib?"  George 
Sanders  asked. 

"If  you  stored  it  in  your  main  crib,  it  would  be 


THE   BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL  67 

full  of  weevils  by  the  time  the  main  crop  comes  in. 
It  would  be  just  like  saying  to  the  weevils,  'Here  is 
some  more  corn,  help  yourselves/  If  they  could, 
they  would  smile  all  over  and  say,  'Mr.  Sanders, 
you  are  a  gentleman.'  You  see  you  kept  the  weevils 
off  your  main  crop  by  planting  the  early  corn ;  now, 
would  it  be  wise  to  gather  the  early  crop,  give  the 
weevils  a  free  ride  to  the  crib,  and  then  bring  the 
rest  of  the  corn  to  them  to  save  them  the  trouble  of 
flying  to  it?  That  would  surely  be  treating  the 
weevils  kindly." 

"Ho,  ho,  ho,"  many  laughed. 

"Put  your  thinking  cap  on,  George,"  several 
exclaimed. 

The  entomologist  continued:  "Select  for  your 
seed-corn  such  ears  as  give  a  good  yield  and  have 
tight  and  close-fitting  shucks.  The  ears  should  not 
stand  up  straight,  but  hang  down  to  prevent  water 
from  entering  the  shucks  during  rains." 

Will  Lane  now  interrupted  the  entomologist:  "I 
have  studied  about  that  myself  and  always  thought 
that  the  shucks  had  something  to  do  with  the 
number  of  weevils,  but  I  met  Sam  Faulkner  in  town 
the  other  day  and  he  said  that  he  did  not  think 
much  of  it.  He  said  he  had  an  army  of  corn  ear- 
worms  in  his  corn  last  year  and  that  the  weevils 
got  into  the  shucks  through  the  holes  made  by  these 
worms  when  they  left  the  ears  to  go  into  the  ground. 


68  FARM  SPIES 

I  always  thought  a  heap  of  it,  but  then  that  is  what 
Sam  said." 

"It  is  quite  true/'  the  entomologist  continued; 
"the  holes  made  by  the  corn  ear-worms  would  offer 
a  way  for  the  weevils  to  get  to  the  ears  even  when 
covered  by  tight-fitting  shucks;  but  I  have  never 
seen  a  bad  case  of  weevily  corn  in  the  field  where  the 
shucks  were  tight-fitting,  and  covered  the  ears, 
even  where  the  corn  ear-worms  had  made  holes 
through  the  shucks.  It  is  only  in  some  years  that 
this  worm  is  very  bad,  and  the  holes  they  make  do 
not  offer  as  easy  a  way  for  the  weevils  to  get  in  as 
the  loose,  short  shucks.  It  may  be  that  this  Mr. 
Faulkner,  of  whom  you  speak,  happened  to  look  at 
a  few  of  the  worst  ears,  in  which  case  it  would  not  be 
fair  to  speak  that  way  for  the  whole  crop. 

"Do  not  sweep  your  wagon  beds  near  the  crib 
after  your  corn  has  been  unloaded.  Many  weevils 
are  in  that  rubbish,  and  sweeping  them  on  the 
ground  near  the  crib  would  be  helping  them  to  get 
to  the  crib  easier." 

George  Brown  now  interrupted  the  entomologist : 
"  I  am  glad  that  I  am  here ;  what  we  have  been  told 
is  of  great  value  to  us,  but  what  are  we  going  to  do 
right  now,  gentlemen,  when  our  corn  is  stored  in  the 
crib  and  the  little  six-legged  thieves  are  making  meal 
out  of  it  ?  They  are  ruining  my  corn  in  the  crib  right 
now  and  I  do  not  even  dare  to  feed  it  to  my  mules." 


THE   BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL  69 

"Oh,  fudge,"  exclaimed  Fred  Hamilton,  "Tom 
Morrill  gave  me  a  simple  remedy  the  other  day  and 
he  said  it  worked  fine.  He  tried  it  last  year  and  he 
said  his  father  always  used  it.  He  wets  the  corn 
with  salt  water  when  he  puts  it  in  the  crib." 

"I  tried  it,  and  it  works  fine,"  a  voice  was  heard. 


FIG.  40.  —  "Sweeping  them   on   the   ground   near   the  crib  would   be 
helping  them." 

"I  tried  it,  and  it  did  not  do  any  good  whatever," 
several  gentlemen  remarked. 

The  entomologist  smiled  and  said,  "You,  who  have 
tried  it,  seem  to  disagree." 

"What  do  you  think  about  it?"    several  asked. 

"We  have  tried  it,"  the  entomologist  answered, 
"and  while  the  salted  shucks  seem  to  taste  better 


70  FARM  SPIES 

when  eaten  by  stock,  yet  in  our  trials  the  loss  was 
greater  in  the  salted  crib.  Where  salt  or  salt  water 
was  used  it  softened  the  corn  in  damp  weather  and 
the  weevils  seemed  to  like  it  better.  •  There  was  even 
loss  in  weight." 

"  Does  heat  kill  the  weevils  ?  that  is,  could  you 
haul  the  corn  in  wet  or  wet  it  after  it  is  in  the  crib 
and  let  it  heat  to  kill  the  pests?"  one  farmer  asked. 

"Where  heat  is  under  control  it  is  no  doubt  the 
surest  way  for  killing  all  kinds  of  stored  grain  in- 
sects, and  in  seed  houses  where  steam  coils  are  in- 
stalled we  recommend  the  use  of  heat.  To  obtain 
that  heat  by  hauling  corn  in  wet,  we  do  not  advise," 
the  entomologist  answered. 

"How  much  heat  does  it  take  to  kill  them?" 

"The  entire  crib  must  be  heated  to  a  temperature 
of  123  degrees  F.  for  several  hours." 

"Does  that  injure  the  germ  of  the  corn?"  another 
asked. 

"No,  sir,"  the  entomologist  answered.  "The 
germ  stands  a  much  higher  temperature  for  a  much 
longer  period  without  injury." 

"Don't  many  of  the  weevils  freeze  to  death  in 
the  winter  ?  "  Ed  Green  asked.  "  I  have  heard  people 
say  that  the  weevils  cannot  stand  the  cold  weather." 

"I  do  not  think  that  in  our  corn-cribs  it  ever  gets 
cold  enough  to  freeze  many  weevils.  This  may  kill 
them  farther  north,  where  the  winters  are  much 


THE  BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL  71 

colder.  During  cold  weather  in  the  South  the 
weevils  become  numb  and  quiet,  and  this  has  led 
many  people  to  believe  that  the  little  rogues  were 
dead." 

John  Matthews  said  that  most  of  the  weevils  are 
in  the  cribs  during  the  winter  and  wished  to  know 
how  they  got  to  the  fields.  "Do  they  travel  from 
the  cribs  to  the  cornfields?"  he  asked. 

The  entomologist  told  him  that  no  breeding  places 
had  been  found  in  the  fields  in  the  spring,  and  as  the 
weevils  leave  the  cribs  when  the  corn  is  badly  eaten, 
he  thought  that  the  pests  traveled  from  the  cribs 
to  the  fields.  He  also  explained  that  breeding 
in  the  fields  did  not  begin  in  earnest  until  the  corn 
had  begun  to  harden  after  the  roasting-ear  stage. 
He  said  further  :  "At  this  time  the  corn  that  may  be 
still  in  the  cribs  is  so  badly  weevil-eaten  that  in 
many  cases  the  pests  are  forced  to  find  something 
to  eat ;  one  will  notice  this  during  June  and  July, 
and  during  this  time  most  of  the  weevils  leave  the 
crib.  In  the  spring  the  weevils  have  been  found  in 
the  fields  eating  other  things,  but  the  numbers 
found  at  that  time  could  not  very  well  account  for 
the  large  number  laying  eggs  in  the  fields  when  the 
corn  hardens." 

"Let  us  come  back  to  the  question  George  Brown 
asked  some  time  ago,"  exclaimed  Fred  Hamilton. 
"Is  there  anything  we  can  do  right  now  to  save 


72  FARM  SPIES 

the  corn  that  is  in  our  cribs?  After  that  we  can 
talk  about  the  things  we  should  do  next  season  to 
prevent  the  thieves  riddling  our  corn  on  the  stalks 
before  it  is  put  in  the  cribs." 

"Yes,"  the  entomologist  said,  "there  is  something 
you  can  do ;  go  home  and  make  your  cribs  just  as 
tight  as  it  is  possible  to  make  them.  In  brick  cribs, 
or  in  wooden  cribs  that  have  been  made  very  tight 
by  the  use  of  heavy  tarred  paper  between  two  layers 
of  sheathed  boarding  for  the  walls  and  ceilings,  use 
about  seven  pounds  of  carbon  bisulphide  for  every 
one  thousand  cubic  feet  of  space.  In  cribs  not  so 
tight  a  much  larger  amount  may  be  necessary. 

"Carbon  bisulphide  is  a  liquid  which  looks  like 
water  and  has  a  foul  smell.  When  the  liquid  is 
exposed  to  the  air  it  changes  to  gas  very  rapidly. 
This  gas  is  heavier  than  air  and  sinks  in  the  crib  - 
it  does  not  rise  like  most  gases  you  know.  It  goes 
down,  sideways,  and  eventually  upwards.  To 
fumigate  with  this  gas,  level  off  the  surface  of  the 
corn  in  the  crib  and  make  holes  by  pulling  out  some 
ears.  The  holes  should  be  about  three  feet  apart 
each  way  and  from  one  to  one  and  one  half  feet 
deep.  The  liquid  is  then  poured  into  the  holes, 
using  about  an  equal  amount  for  each  hole.  The 
corn  is  then  thrown  back  into  the  holes  to  help  hold 
the  gas,  and  the  crib  closed  tight.  Fire  must  be 
kept  away  from  the  liquid,  and  if  any  is  left  after 


THE   BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL  73 

enough  has  been  put  in  the  crib,  it  should  be  kept 
in  a  cool  place." 

"Is  one  treatment  enough?"  someone  asked. 

"  Of  ten  it  is  if  everything  is  just  right  when  the 
liquid  is  put  into  the  crib.  Be  sure  and  have  the 
crib  ready  before  you  put  the  gas  in.  Some  people 
forget  and  then  have  to  open  the  crib  every  little 
while  to  fix  something  that  should  have  been  done 
before.  One  can  soon  find  out  if  the  first  dose  was 
not  strong  enough  ;  if  not,  then  a  second  and  stronger 
one  should  be  given.  In  most  cribs  it  is  best  to  give 
one  dose  in  the  fall  as  soon  as  the  corn  has  been 
put  in,  and  another  in  the  spring.  This  should  be 
done  on  warm  days.  The  crib  should  be  kept  closed 
from  twenty-four  to  forty-eight  hours." 

"Can  I  go  into  the  crib  with  a  lighted  lantern 
when  the  gas  is  in?" 

"There  is  just  a  bare  possibility  of  an  explosion, 
and  we  would  advise  you  not  to  carry  fire  of  any 
kind  near  the  crib  at  that  time." 

"How  do  you  air  the  crib  when  you  want  to  open 
it  again?"  some  one  asked. 

The  entomologist  answered,  "Unless  you  have  a 
brick  crib,  or  a  wooden  crib  very,  very  tight,  it  is 
not  necessary  to  air  it,  because  the  gas  will  disappear 
in  a  day  or  two.  In  case  of  a  tight  crib,  just  open 
the  door  and  the  gas  will  soon  disappear." 

"I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  this  gas  business  looks 


74  FARM   SPIES 

too  dangerous  to  suit  me,"  said  Orrin  Doyle.  "Were 
I  to  put  ;that  gas  in  my  crib,  then  I  could  not  go  near 
the  barn  with  a  lantern,  and  what  is  worse,  I  could 
not  even  smoke  my  pipe  near  the  crib  for  fear  of 
having  my  head  blown  off.  I  think  I  will  let  the  bugs 
eat  my  corn  and  not  take  the  risk  of  burning  down 
my  barn." 

"That  is  what  I  say,"  added  George  Brown; 
"that  plagued  stuff  will  blow  your  head  off.  I 
believe  I  am  scared  of  it." 

The  entomologist  answered,  "You  are  evidently 
expecting  your  barn  to  burn  down  at  any  moment ; 
at  least,  that  is  the  way  I  would  feel  about  my  barn 
if  I  were  in  the  habit  of  smoking  in  or  near  it.  If 
you  are  used  to  smoking  near  the  barn  couldn't  you, 
for  the  sake  of  your  crop,  your  family,  and  your 
stock,  smoke  elsewhere  for  a  day?" 

This  caused  an  uproarious  laughter,  and  the 
gentleman  wished  that  he  had  not  said  what  he 
did  about  smoking  near  the  barn. 

The  entomologist  then  assured  him  that  there 
was  no  more  danger  than  in  the  use  of  gasolene,  so 
common  in  every  home.  He  said  further,  "If  you 
use  the  same  care  you  would  with  gasolene,  then  you 
will  not  have  any  trouble.  The  liquid  itself  will  not 
hurt  the  skin  when  it  touches  it,  and  the  inhaling  of 
a  small  amount  of  the  gas  would  not  injure  any 


one." 


THE  BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL  75 

"How  about  using  it  in  a  crib  which  has  wet 
corn  in  it  and  «the  corn  has  heated  ?  "  a  farmer  asked. 
" Would  it  cause  an  explosion?77 

"In  a  very  tight  crib  I  should  be  afraid  to  use  it, 
but  in  most  cribs  there  would  be  no  danger/7  was 
the  entomologist7s  reply. 

A  little  man  somewhere  in  the  crowd  exclaimed : 
"Bill  Crane  said  that  when  he  was  in  Fort  Worth 
some  of  the  big  millers  used  this  gas,  and  the  people 
told  him  that  they  could  taste  it  in  the  bread  made 
from  the  flour  of  grain  so  fumigated.77 

"  I  have  known  of  such  cases  before/7  the  entomolo- 
gist replied.  "People  know  that  it  has  a  foul  smell, 
but  it  is  funny  that  they  never  taste  it  in  bread 
when  they  don7t  know  the  gas  was  used.77 

"I  have  a  newspaper  clipping  here  where  it  speaks 
of  two  other  things  that  have  been  tried  for  killing 
weevils.  The  names  are  terrible ;  I  guess  I  won7t 
try  to  read  them  because  it  is  after  four  o7 clock 
now  and  I  shouldn7t  be  able  to  get  through  pro- 
nouncing one  of  them  before  sundown/7  and  the 
farmer  who  said  this  came  forward  and  handed  the 
clipping  to  the  entomologist. 

"Both  of  these  have  been  experimented  with  by 

the  United  States  Department  of  Agriculture ;  the 

first l  one  mentioned  is  rather   expensive,   but  the 

second  2  seems  to  give  promise.     One  point  strongly 

1  Carbon  tetrachloride.  2  Para  dichlorobenzine. 


76  FARM  SPIES 

in  their  favor  is  that  they  do  not  burn  like  carbon 
bisulphide." 

So  the  meeting  kept  on,  one  question  after  another 
being  asked  by  the  farmers.  They  found  out  that 
Jim  Blair  had  used  this  gas,  and  when  asked  about 
it  he  explained  how  he  had  used  it.  He  told  them 
that  he  had  made  his  crib  very  tight  and  that  he 
put  the  gas  in  on  November  8.  Mr.  Blair  said 
that  he  chose  a  warm,  sunny  day  to  put  the  gas  in, 
and  that  he  was  very  much  pleased  when  he  looked 
at  his  corn  the  next  spring  and  found  very  few 
weevils  in  it.  "Of  course,"  said  he,  "I  would  not 
come  to  a  conclusion  after  just  one  trial,  because  it 
might  have  been  a  light  weevil  year,  but  I  know  of 
a  half  dozen  other  farmers  who  used  it  for  several 
years  with  good  results. 

"Do  not  try  to  depend  on  treating  corn  in  the 
crib  to  control  weevils.  The  first  step  is  to  select 
your  seed  corn  in  the  right  way  at  harvest  time. 
When  selecting,  look  for  type  of  plant,  height  of 
ear,  yield,  sound  grain,  tight  shuck,  and  hanging 
ears.  The  tight  shuck  prevents  the  weevils  from 
getting  to  the  grain,  but  in  most  seasons  the  tip  of 
the  shuck  will  not  be  tight  in  ears  that  stand  up 
because  the  soaking  of  the  silk  during  rainy  weather 
followed  by  drying  in  hot  weather  makes  it  so  that 
weevils  can  get  to  the  grain.  Take  pains  to  harvest 
your  corn  dry  and  put  it  in  good  cribs.  Then  if  you 


THE   BLACK   CORN-WEEVIL 


77 


find  that  it  is  necessary  to  fumigate,  find  out  the 
best  thing  by'  writing  to  the  experiment  station  or 
by  asking  the  farm  demonstration  agent.  There 
are  so  many  things  tried  at  present  that  we  may 
soon  have  something  that  will  take  the  place  of 
carbon  bisulphide." 

" Gentlemen/7  said  John  Matthews,  "it  is  getting 
late,  and  most  of  the  people  have  to  go  home.  I  am 
going  home  to  tighten  my  crib.  I  am  going  to  select 


(After  Hinds,  Ala.  Exp.  Sta.) 

FIG.  41.  —  "When  selecting,  look   for   type    of   plant,  height   of    ear, 
sound  grain,  tight  shuck,  and  hanging  ears." 

my  seed  corn  more  carefully  after  this.  I  know  that 
I  can  grow  a  crop  of  corn,  and  after  this  I  am  going 
to  save  it." 

"So  am  I,"  a  dozen  or  more  voices  were  heard. 

The  meeting  was  over,  and  a  little  later  you  could 
see  men,  women,  children,  teams,  and  cars  going  in 
almost  every  direction. 

The  people  of  Flanders  have  put  these  things  into 
practice,  and  they  have  improved  the  corn  of  that 
community  very  much.  Fred  Hamilton  said  a  few 


78  FARM   SPIES 

weeks  ago  that  he  had  always  regarded  the  black 
weevil  as  a  terrible  pest,  but  that  he  had  changed 
his  mind,  " Because/7  he  said,  "that  insect  has  done 
more  to  improve  the  corn  around  Flanders  than 
anything  else  that  ever  came  to  this  town." 

Joe  Henderson  is  still  president  of  the  Bank  of 
Flanders  and  one  of  the  town's  best  citizens.  Every- 
body says  that  the  best  thing  he  ever  did  for  that 
section  was  when  he  started  the  movement  for 
having  the  black  weevil  studied  which  led  to  the 
long-remembered  meeting  at  Jack  Smith's  corn-crib. 


GRASSHOPPERS 

WHEN  Mrs.  Emerson  was  sitting  in  the  library  of 
her  home  one  June  afternoon  reading  an  interesting 
book,  she  heard  a  great  noise  outdoors.  "Those 
are  the  Blake  boys ;  I  wonder  what  has  happened," 
she  said  to  herself,  and  started  reading  again.  In  a 
little  while  the  noise  broke  out  again,  much  louder 
than  before.  The  Blake  boys  lived  next  door  to 
her  and  were  very  noisy  at  times,  but  this  time  it 
sounded  to  her  as  if  something  terrible  had  happened 
and  that  the  boys  were  calling  for  help.  She  ran 
across  the  hall  and  through  another  room  to  that 
side  of  the  house  where  the  noise  came  from,  to  find 
out  what  the  trouble  could  be.  As  she  put  one 
hand  on  the  closed  shutters  to  open  them  she  called, 
"What  is  the  matter,  boys?" 

The  boys  answered  at  the  top  of  their  voices, 
"Mrs.  Emerson,  Mrs.  Emerson,  don't  open  that 
blind,  and  don't  look  out !" 

"Well,  what  can  the  trouble  be?"  she  asked  her- 
self, nervously,  and  then  called  very  loud :  "What  is 
the  trouble  ?  Is  there  a  rattlesnake  out  there  in  the 
rosebushes?" 

79 


80  FARM   SPIES 

"Mrs.  Emerson,  do  not  open,"  came  the  reply 
again,  "  because  there  is  an  awful  big  hopper-grass 
on  your  window-shutter !" 

"Is  that  all?"  said  Mrs.  Emerson,  giving  a  big 
sigh  of  relief ;  and,  bursting  into  a  laugh,  she  re- 
turned to  her  book.  She  could  not  get  over  the  funny 
side  of  it,  and  every  little  while  during  the  afternoon 
she  would  burst  out  laughing.  When  her  boy  John 
came  home  and  saw  her  he  thought  that  she  must 

be  reading  a 
very  funny 
story. 

Willie     and 

(After  Wastourn,  Minn.  EXp.  Sta.)        Freddie         Blake 

FIG.  42. —  "There  is  an  awful  big  hopper-        Were     raised     in 
grass  on  your  window-shutter."  , -,  . ,  -,        /. 

the  city  and,  of 

course,  did  not  know  much  about  grasshoppers 
except  what  they  had  read  in  their  story-books. 
It  was,  therefore,  not  surprising  that,  when  they 
saw  an  unusually  big  one,  they  should  be  just  a 
little  scared. 

Their  father  had  been  reared  on  the  farm  and  knew 
most  of  the  common  insects  and  other  animals. 
As  a  boy  he  had  watched  the  bumblebee  make  her 
home  in  an  old  mouse-nest ;  he  had  seen  the  mud- 
daubers  build  their  mud-nests  on  the  rafters  in  the 
garrets ;  and  he  had  often  noticed  and  watched  the 
squirming  in  manure  heaps  of  maggots  that  made 


GRASSHOPPERS 


81 


house-flies  and  stable-flies.  He  could  have  told  the 
boys  about  the  big  grasshoppers  which  they  in  their 
excitement  had  called  hopper-grass,  but  he  was  not 
at  home. 

About  a  week  after  they  had  scared  Mrs.  Emerson, 
Willie  was  pulling  weeds  in  the  garden  and  he  saw 


FIG.  43. —  "He  saw  a  large  number  of  grasshoppers  eating   on  their 
sweet  corn." 

a  large  number  of  grasshoppers  eating  on  their 
sweet  corn.  He  stopped  and  sat  very  still  for  a  long 
time,  watching  them.  "What  bigmouths  they  have ; 
I  wonder  why  they  have  to  be  so  big?"  he  asked 
himself.  He  talked  to  one  of  the  grasshoppers, 
saying  :  "If  my  mouth  was  as  big  as  yours  according 
to  the  size  of  my  body,  what  a  sight  I  should  be. 


82  FARM   SPIES 

It  would  be  terrible,  and  everybody  would  be  afraid 
of  me.  I  tell  you  what  people  would  say  when  they 
looked  at  me ;  they  would  say,  '  That  boy  is  a 
frightful  looking  thing ;  I  always  thought  that  Frank 
Stevens's  bulldog  had  an  ugly  mug,  but  it  is  nothing 
to  that  of  Willie  Blake/  he,  he,  he,"  he  laughed. 

Just  then  he  saw  something  that  took  his  attention 
from  that  grasshopper ;  at  the  edge  of  the  garden 

he  saw  another  grass- 
hopper sitting  quietly 
with  its  abdomen,  or 
rear  half  of  the  body, 
halfway  in  the  ground. 
FIG.  44.  _  -He  is  stuck  fast  in  the  He  crept  away  quietly 

and  called  Freddie,  say- 
ing, "  Freddie,  .come  here  and  look  what  happened 
to  one  of  the  grasshoppers." 

Freddie  came  and  they  both  looked.  "He  is 
stuck  fast  in  the  ground,  Freddie,"  said  Willie. 

"Why,  Freddie,  he  surely  is;  poor  old  long-legs, 
I  wonder  how  that  happened." 

Just  then  their  father  came  to  the  house  and  the 
boys  called  him.  He  came,  and  after  taking  a  good 
look,  said,  "What  is  the  matter  with  that  grass- 
hopper do  you  think?" 

"We  do  not  know,"  Freddie  answered.  "The 
poor  thing  is  stuck  in  a  hole  there,  but  how  did  he 
get  in?  Do  you  suppose  that  it  is  an  ant-hole?" 


GRASSHOPPERS 


83 


"No,  boys/7  the  father  explained,  athat  grass- 
hopper made1  that  hole  and  is  laying  eggs.  Grass- 
hoppers lay  their  eggs  in  the  ground,  and  the  hole 
in  which  they  are  placed  they  make  themselves  by 
means  of  prongs  they  have  at  the  rear  end  of  the 
body."  Picking  up  another  grasshopper  he  showed 
the  boys  the  prongs 
and  the  way  they  are 
used  for  digging. 

"  The  thing  for  you 
to  do  now,  boys,  is 
to  watch  these  grass- 
hoppers this  after- 
noon and  find  some 
more  that  are  laying. 
You  can  then  mark 
the  spots  and  you  can 
dig  some  of  them  up 
to-morrow  and  see 
how  they  look.  If 
you  will  then  take  good  care  of  the  eggs,  you  will 
have  a  chance  to  see  them  hatch  and  you  can  tell 
your  boy  friends  how  the  little  grasshoppers  come 
into  the  world/'  the  father  told  them. 

That  entire  afternoon  the  boys  spent  in  the  garden 
watching  the  grasshoppers.  They  saw  three  others 
laying.  They  marked  the  spots  very  carefully,  as 
their  father  had  told  them,  so  that  they  would  be 


(After  Riley.) 


FIG.  45.  —  "That  grasshopper  made  that 
hole  and  is  laying  eggs." 


84  FARM   SPIES 

able  to  find  them  again  the  next  day.  "  Hello, 
Pete,"  Freddie  called  to  the  old  family  horse  which 
stood  near  by  looking  at  the  boys  across  the  garden 
fence.  "  Pete;  what  are  you  looking  so  grave  about  ? 
You  could  not  have  heard  what  father  said  when  he 
was  here  in  the  garden  some  time  ago.  If  you  had 
seen  us  watching  and  pitying  an  old  grasshopper  for 
having  gotten  fast  in  an  ant-burrow  when  it  was 
merely  laying  eggs,  you  could  not  stand  there  and 
look  as  sober  as  you  do."  The  boys  had  a  good  laugh 
over  what  they  had  nearly  forgotten ;  and,  answer- 
ing their  mother's  call,  they  went  to  the  house. 

"I  am  glad  that  father  has  forgotten  about  it," 
Willie  said  as  they  were  passing  through  the  garden 
gate. 

"So  am  I,"  remarked  Freddie. 

After  supper  that  evening  their  father  asked, 
"Did  you  find  any  more  grasshoppers  stuck  fast 
in  ant-holes,  boys?"  The  boys,  after  a  rather 
sheepish  laugh,  told  what  they  had  seen  since  their 
father  left  them  in  the  afternoon.  Freddie,  it  seems, 
had  paid  especial  attention  to  the  food  of  the  insects. 
"I  never  should  have  believed  that  anything  on 
earth  could  be  as  big  a  glutton  as  Mr.  Stevens's  bull 
terrier.  I  have  seen  him  gulp  down  a  plate  of  po- 
tatoes so  fast  that  I  have  often  wondered  how  he 
did  it.  I  thought  he  was  about  to  bust  when  he 
turned  around  and  gave  a  large  piece  of  an  old  ham, 


GRASSHOPPERS  85 

which  Mrs.  Stevens  had  thrown  out,  exactly  the 
same  treatment,  and  within  five  minutes  afterwards 
I  saw  him  punished  for  stealing  and  eating  a  loaf  of 
corn  bread.  I  tell  you  that  the  terrier  is  not  in  the 
same  class  as  the  grasshoppers.  I  watched  them 
when  I  should  have  been  pulling  weeds.  I  could  not 
help  it,  because  I  fell  into  watching  them  before  I 
knew  it." 

"  There  is  not  a  plant  in  our  garden  which  they 
failed  to  sample/'  interrupted  Willie. 

"If  you  call  that  sampling,  Willie,  then  I  should 
like  to  see  them  eating  in  earnest.  They  are  strip- 
ping our  sweet  corn,  and  leaving  nothing  but  ribs  to 
our  cabbage.  They  are  chewing  everything  to  pieces, 
and  they  do  not  seem  to  give  the  weeds  any  more 
consideration  than  our  garden  plants.  It  seems 
that  they  prefer  the  young  tender  buds,  but  when 
they  are  eaten  it  does  not  seem  to  worry  them 
any,  —  at  least  not  judging  from  the  way  they  look." 

"And  did  you  notice  how  much  they  can  spit?" 
Willie  interrupted.  "It  is  as  brown  as  tobacco  juice, 
and  where  it  all  comes  from  is  a  puzzle  to  me. 
Look  on  my  sleeve  here  and  you  can  see  the  brown 
spots ;  I  wonder  if  it  will  wash  out.  When  you 
catch  one  he  sets  his  big  mouth  to  work,  and  with  all 
the  parts  in  action  it  reminds  me  of  a  mowing  ma- 
chine thrown  into  gear.  His  saliva  runs  over  your 
fingers  and  you  need  not  figure  that  he  will  do  this 


86  FARM  SPIES 

for  a  little  while  and  then  stop,  but  he  keeps  it  up 
until  at  last  you  just  have  to  let  him  go." 

"If  I  could  spit  like  a  grasshopper  I  would  soon 
stop  those  cats  screeching  below  my  window  every 
night/'  said  Freddie. 

"How  would  you  do  it?"  the  others  asked. 

"How  would  I  do  it?"  Freddie  asked  soberly.  "I 
would  just  turn  over  in  bed  with  my  face  toward 
the  window  and  spit.  That  would  settle  it,  because 
it  would  drown  every  cat  engaged  in  that  choir." 
At  this  they  all  laughed. 

Their  father  interrupted,  "Maybe  the  grass- 
hoppers are  like  some  people.  When  they  get  nerv- 
ous they  allow  their  jaws  to  exceed  the  speed  limit, 
when  you  had  better  keep  your  distance  if  you  don't 
want  to  get  into  a  shower-bath." 

Freddie  whispered  something  to  Willie,  which  set 
the  boys  laughing  with  an  uproar. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at,  boys?"  their  father 
asked  with  a  knowing  smile. 

Willie  answered,  "Freddie  said  that  you  must 
have  been  thinking  about  old  Mr.  Bill  Grimes  down 
by  the  creek." 

This  created  another  general  laugh,  after  which 
they  all  retired. 

The  next  morning  at  about  ten  o'clock  Mr.  Blake 
saw  the  boys  coming  from  the  tool-shed  ;  Willie  car- 
ried a  spade  and  Freddie  a  pickaxe  over  his  shoulder. 


GRASSHOPPERS  87 

"What  are  you  going  to  do;  what  are  you  going 
to  do  ?  Are  you  planning  to  dig  a  well  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Blake. 

"No/'  Willie  replied;  "we  want  to  dig  up  some  of 
those  grasshopper  eggs/'  -  and  then  they  stopped  as 
if  stunned,  watching  their  father  laughing.  He 
almost  doubled  up  several  times,  and  the  boys  won- 
dered if  he  would  ever  get  over  it.  When  at  last  he 
seemed  to  conquer  his  laughing,  a  glance  at  the 
boys,  armed  with  spade  and  pickaxe,  would  set  him 
off  again,  and  soon  the  boys  found  themselves  joining 
in  the  laugh,  although  they  did  not  know  what  it 
was  about. 

"Boys,"  their  father  said  at  last,  "when  you  want 
to  pick  your  teeth  after  dinner,  would  you  take  a 
fence-rail?  If  you  want  to  shoot  a  squirrel,  would 
you  use  a  cannon?  The  only  tool  you  need  for 
finding  the  grasshopper  eggs  is  the  small  blade  of  a 
pocket  knife,  because  the  eggs  are  not  more  than  a 
fourth  of  an  inch  below  the  top  of  the  earth.  Put 
those  tools  back  where  you  got  them  and  don't  be 
borrowing  trouble." 

The  boys  did  what  he  told  them.  When  they  had 
disappeared  in  the  tool-shed,  they  looked  about  as 
sheepish  as  ever  any  boys  looked. 

"Freddie,"  said  Willie,  "we  might  have  known  that 
those  eggs  could  not  be  very  deep,  especially  when  you 
consider  the  size  of  the  insects." 


88  FARM  SPIES 

"I  did  know  it,  of  course,  but  I  just  forgot  to 
stop  and  think  about  it/'  answered  Freddie  with 
disgust. 

They  went  to  the  garden  and  began  digging  very 
carefully  with  their  knife-blades  and 
soon  uncovered  the  eggs.    They  were 
little,  reddish,  podlike  bodies  laid  in 
FIG.  46. —  "They     a  little  earthen  chamber  which  had 

were  little,  red-       ,  111,.  •  -i        i 

dish,  podlike  been  made  by  the  female  with  the 
prongs  which  their  father  had  pointed 
out  to  them  the  day  before.  They  found  the  eggs 
a  solid  mass  and  adhered  to  each  other  as  if 
glued.  When  they  noticed  how  nicely  the  eggs  were 
covered  over  with  soil  so  that  no  trace  of  the  chamber 
could  be  seen  on  the  surface  of  the 
soil,  they  were  very  glad  that  they 
had  marked  the  place  as  their  father 
had  told  them.  They  counted  the 
eggs  and  found  that  there  were  ninety- 
four  in  the  mass. 

"They  are  good  layers/'  remarked 

W^ie.  chamber." 

"Yes,  they  are,"  Freddie  agreed,  "and  I  do  not 
understand  how  any  of  our  Plymouth-rock  hens 
can  look  at  a  grasshopper  without  blushing.  If 
those  old  hens  would  only  lay  ninety-four  eggs  at 
one  sitting,  we  could  go  into  the  poultry  business." 

The  boys  talked   the  matter  over  and  decided 


GRASSHOPPERS  89 

that  they  would  put  these  eggs  in  a  tumbler  so  that 
they  might  se'e  the  little  grasshoppers  hatch.  "We 
want  to  see  them  come  out  of  the  eggshell/'  they 
said.  This  done,  they  tried  to  find  other  grasshoppers 
in  the  act  of  laying.  They  worked  all  over  the  garden 
and  found  four  more  egg-chambers,  and  every  one 
of  them  was  near  the  edge  of  the  garden.  They 
noticed  that  they  were  not  laying  in  the  ground 
that  was  cultivated  and  concluded  that  they  must 
have  wise  little  heads  because  they  would  not  risk 
to  lay  their  eggs  where  they  would  be  in  danger  of 
being  uncovered  by  the  plow  or  hoe.  After  the 
places  had  all  been  carefully  marked  they  put  little 
cages  over  them  just  as  their  father  had  explained 
to  them.  Their  mother  did  not  have  enough  cheese- 
cloth for  all  the  cages,  so  they  made  as  many  as  they 
could  from  this  material  and  used  muslin  for  the  rest. 
Their  row  of  cages  looked  pretty,  and  many  people 
passing  the  garden  stopped  and  looked  at  them. 
They  felt  proud  when  people  asked  questions  about 
them,  but  old  Mr.  Grimes  made  them  angry  when 
he  said  :  "What  foolishness  is  that,  boys,  putting  up 
a  cemetery  in  the  garden?  Those  little  white  cages 
look  just  like  headstones.  I  would  not  have  them 
on  my  place."  Although  this  made  them  rosy,  they 
could  not  help  looking  at  each  other  and  grinning, 
because  they  recalled  their  father's  remark  about 
nervous  people. 


90  FARM  SPIES 

"How  soon  will  the  eggs  hatch ?"  the  boys 
asked. 

"I  do  not  believe  that  they  will  hatch  before  the 
warm  weather  sets  in  next  spring.  They  will  stay 
where  they  are  throughout  the  winter.  At  least,  I 
hope  they  will/7  their  father  continued,  "but  I  am 
afraid  your  cages  are  in  the  way  when  I  plow  up  the 
garden." 

"But  you  will  not  plow  the  garden  until  spring, 
will  you?" 

"  Not  on  the  left  side  where  the  cabbage  and  other 
winter  vegetables  are,  but  the  side  where  your  cages 
are  will  be  plowed,  because  we  could  not  afford  to  let 
that  land  lie  that  way  all  winter." 

"Why  not?"  the  boys  asked,  very  much  worried 
that  their  cages  might  be  disturbed. 

"Because,"  their  father  explained,  "part  of  it  has 
grown  to  weeds  and  they  give  shelter  to  insects  and 
diseases.  Those  weeds  will  die  when  cold  weather 
begins,  and  if  there  are  no  living  plants  on  that  soil 
to  take  up  and  hold  the  plant-food,  it  will  wash  and 
leach  away.  Part  of  the  garden  has  the  soil  bare, 
and  this  would  wash  during  the  wet  weather.  Now, 
we  will  not  allow  any  of  those  things  to  happen 
because  it  would  be  very  bad  farm-practice.  I  am 
going  to  plow  that  side  and  sow  it  to  vetch  or  clover. 
It  would  be  called  a  cover-crop,  and  will  prevent  the 
soil  from  washing.  Few  insects  can  feed  on  such 


GRASSHOPPERS  91 

plants,  and  by  keeping  the  weeds  down  it  would  be 
a  cleaning-crop  at  the  same  time." 

"  Why  do  you  use  vetch  or  clover  ?  Could  you  not 
sow  oats?" 

"Yes,  I  could,  and  it  would  do  about  what  vetch 
and  clover  do,  but  oats  has  not  the  little  nodules 
on  the  roots  which  contain  the  little  bacteria  that 
have,  the  power  of  changing  the  nitrogen  of  the  air 
so  that  plants  can  use  it  for  food.  It  is  this  nitrogen 
that  makes  up  the  ammonia  in  the  fertilizer  and  is 
the  most  expensive  part.  When  I  grow  these  plants 
I  need  less  of  that  kind  of  fertilizer  and  there  I  am 
not  only  saving  money,  but  when  I  plow  this  cover 
crop  under  next  spring  I  add  a  lot  of  nice  vegetable 
matter  to  the  soil  which  decays,  making  plant  food, 
making  the  soil  hold  water  better,  and  allowing  the 
air  to  circulate  through  the  soil.  Soils  having  these 
conditions  are  most  productive." 

"That  is  very  interesting/'  the  boys  remarked. 

"When  I  plow  this  fall  I  will  also  uncover  the 
grasshopper  eggs  that  may  be  in  that  ground  and  they 
will  die  during  the  winter.  Of  course,  the  greatest 
numbers  of  eggs  are  along  the  edge  of  the  garden. 
They  prefer  to  lay  their  eggs  in  slightly  sandy  soil 
along  hedges,  roadways,  and  other  places  where  no 
cultivation  occurs.  Where  your  cages  are  placed 
the  greatest  number  of  eggs  are  found,  and  I  want  to 
work  that  soil  to  kill  them.  I  don't  know  what  we 
had  better  do  with  the  cages." 


92  FARM  SPIES 

The  boys  knew  that  their  father  would  often  say 
things  with  a  sober  face  even  when  he  was  joking, 
and  they  were  not  sure  what  he  would  do  in  this  case. 
The  truth  is  that  he  would  never  have  allowed  those 
cages  to  be  disturbed,  as  he  was  glad  that  the  boys 
were  studying  the  grasshoppers.  The  next  day  he 
had  forgotten  about  this,  and  did  not  know  that  the 
boys  remembered  it  and  were  talking  it  over  every 
little  while  to  find  some  plan  by  which  they  could 
keep  their  father  from  plowing  up  the  land  where 
the  cages  were  placed. 

One  afternoon  they  visited  their  old  friend  Captain 
Shelby  and,  among  other  things,  they  told  him  about 
the  danger  threatening  their  breeding  cages.  Cap- 
tain Shelby  knew  Mr.  Blake  well,  and  was  sure  that 
he  was  merely  joking  when  he  talked  to  the  boys, 
but  being  a  wag,  he  tried  to  help  the  boys  with  a 
scheme  that  would  make  their  father  keep  away 
from  the  cages  with  his  plow. 

"Boys,  I  tell  you,"  he  said,  "this  is  the  time  of 
the  year  to  plant  turnips,  and  I  never  saw  anybody 
that  liked  them  so  much  as  your  father.  I  have 
plenty  of  seed  and  you  can  sprinkle  it  all  around 
the  cages  and  rake  it  with  a  garden  rake.  You  can 
also  sow  a  strip  two  feet  wide  on  that  side  of  the 
cages  farthest  away  from  the  fence.  The  seed  will 
come  up,  and  when  your  pa  gets  ready  to  plow, 
he  will  see  the  turnips  and  he  will  not  plow  them  up." 


GRASSHOPPERS  93 

The  boys  went  home  with  the  turnip  seed  in  their 
pockets,  and  the  next  morning  when  their  father  had 
gone  to  town  they  sowed  it.  Mr.  Blake  was  busy 
with  his  corn-crop  and  so  he  did  not  get  back  to  the 
garden  for  nearly  three  weeks.  One  morning  he 
decided  to  plow  the  garden.  As  he  went  through 
the  gate  the  boys  followed  him  and  when  he  saw  the 
turnips  he  was  greatly  surprised. 

"What  is  this?  "he  asked. 

The  boys  explained  that  they  had  sowed  turnips 
there  because  they  thought  he  liked  them. 

"I  do/7  answered  Mr.  Blake,  "but  where  did 
you  get  the  seed?7' 

"From  Captain  Shelby/'  they  answered. 

A  pleased  smile  crept  over  his  face,  as  he  said  :  "I 
see  through  it  now.  That  is  a  game  of  yours,  and 
the  Captain  helped  you.  Boys/'  he  continued,  "I 
would  never  have  disturbed  your  grasshopper  cages, 
but  I  am  glad  that  you  sowed  the  turnips,  and  even 
if  I  had  intended  to  plow  that  ground,  your  game 
would  have  caused  me  to  change  my  mind." 

The  boys  watched  their  tumbler  under  the  old 
apple  tree  and  the  cages  by  the  garden  fence,  hoping 
that  the  eggs  might  yet  hatch  before  the  cold  weather 
set  in.  But  September  passed  and  October  came 
with  its  colors  of  russet,  gold,  and  red.  The  golden- 
rods  and  the  frost-flowers  covered  the  earth,  and  the 
cornfields  rustled  in  the  autumn  breezes. 


94  FARM  SPIES 

"Willie/'  Freddie  said  at  last,  "I  hope  they  will 
not  hatch." 

"Why?"  snapped  Willie. 

"Because  it  is  just  as  father  said/7  answered 
Freddie;  "he  said  if  they  hatched  now,  they  would 
make  the  greatest  mistakes  of  their  lives.  It  seems 
to  me  it  would  be  their  first  as  well  as  their  last 
mistake,  because  they  could  not  live  long,  as  winter 
is  almost  on  us.  In  our  reader  it  says  that  in  those 
sections  of  our  country  where  they  have  very  mild 
winters,  they  may  be  found  at  any  time  of  the  year, 
but  I  am  sure  they  could  not  live  through  the  kind  of 
winters  we  have  here.  I  think  that  they  had  better 
stay  where  they  are,  under  the  ground  in  their  egg- 
shells, and  if  they  have  any  sense  they  will  do  so." 

Freddie's  idea  about  this  matter  did  not  cause 
Willie  to  lose  hope,  but  when  December  came  with 
a  snow-flurry,  he  was  satisfied  that  there  would  be 
no  hatching  till  spring.  Often  during  the  winter 
when  the  ground  was  frozen  and  sleet  beat  against 
the  window-panes,  they  would  talk  about  the  grass- 
hopper eggs  in  the  cold  ground  in  the  garden.  The 
night  following  January  22  was  the  coldest  of  the 
winter.  A  light  snow  had  fallen  and  the  wind  blew 
bitter  cold.  The  boys  had  to  retire  to  a  cold  room 
for  the  night  and  this  they  could  not  enjoy,  no 
matter  how  hard  they  tried.  , 

"I  wish  I  had  just  a  little  of  the  grit  of  those 


GRASSHOPPERS  95 

grasshopper  eggs  so  that  this  would  be  easier,"  said 
Freddie. 

"So  do  I,"  Willie  agreed. 

With  short  days  and  daily  school-work,  time 
passed  rapidly  and  they  might  have  forgotten  about 
their  eggs  in  the  cages,  but  one  balmy  morning  their 
attention  was  attracted  by  the  high  notes  of  &  Ken- 
tucky cardinal.  "  Cheo-cheo-cheo-cheo,"  he  repeated 
over  and  over  from  his  high  perch  in  the  tree-tops, 
and  it  filled  the  boys  with  a  longing  to  be  out-doors. 
They  were  sure  that  spring  had  come  and  that 
they  might  expect  their  grasshopper  eggs  to  hatch 
at  any  moment.  This  was  on  the  morning  of  March 
20,  and  being  Saturday  and  no  school,  they  had  a 
chance  to  see  what  they  had  been  waiting  for  so 
long.  That  day  they  saw  many  young  grasshoppers 
come  out  from  the  eggs  and  sit  wondering  at  the 
great  world  about  them. 

The  boys  put  into  the  tumbler  whatever  green 
vegetation  they  could  find,  and  in  a  day  or  two  they 
all  began  to  feed.  The  tiny  little  insects  resembled 
the  full-grown  grasshoppers  except  that  they  had 
no  wings.  For  a  period  of  twelve  days  they  did  not 
change  except  that  they  grew  larger. 

"This  subject  is  getting  to  be  so  dry  that  it  is 
no  longer  interesting.  They  just  eat  and  grow  a 
little  and  that  is  all,"  Willie  said. 

On  the  thirteenth  morning  after  hatching  some- 


96  FARM  SPIES 

thing  did  happen  that  made  Willie  feel  sorry  for  his 
remark.  One  of  the  grasshoppers  had  fastened  his 
little  feet  firmly  to  a  leaf  in  the  cage  and  sat  so  still 
that  the  boys  thought  he  was  sick.  After  a  while 
they  saw  the  skin  split  over  his  back,  and  before 
noon  the  insect  dropped  helplessly  to  the  ground, 
leaving  his  outgrown  skin  hanging  on  the  leaf. 

"  Whatever  this  is,  it  seems  to  make  him  feel  bad. 
You  see  he  does  not  feed  like  the  others,"  they  said. 

In  an  hour,  or  maybe  a  little  longer,  the  new  skin 
had  hardened  and  the  young  grasshopper  joined  the 
others,  and  seemed  to  be  extra  hungry. 

"I  was  mistaken,"  said  Freddie,  " because  I  see 
now  that  he  feels  better  for  having  lost  his  skin. 
Who  would  have  thought  that  an  animal  can  lose 
its  skin  and  live?"  continued  Freddie.  "That  is  a 
great  deal  more  than  you  can  do.  I  wonder  if  papa 
knows  about  this." 

So  they  went  and  told  their  father  about  it,  and 
he  explained  to  them  that  this  is  called  molting. 
He  assured  them  that  if  they  kept  their  eyes  open, 
they  would  see  the  others  do  likewise,  and  that  all 
grasshoppers  do  it  a  number  of  times. 

By  this  time  they  saw  young  grasshoppers  every- 
where, in  their  cages,  along  the  garden-fence,  and 
along  the  roadside.  When  walking  over  the  short 
grass  they  could  see  hundreds  jumping  in  every 
direction.  They  had  no  trouble  now  to  find  plenty 


GRASSHOPPERS  97 

of  them  to  watch.  They  found  that  they  molted 
about  every  two  weeks,  and  after  the  fifth  time  a 
full-grown  grasshopper  with  full-grown  wings  would 
appear. 

In  the  meantime  the  boys  learned  that  the  grass- 
hoppers had  begun  to  do  very  much  damage  to  the 
farm  crops  and  gardens  of  that  section  and  people 
spoke  very  unkindly  about  them.  The  little  hordes 
of  grasshoppers  that  had  hatched  along  the  edges  of 
fields,  in  pastures  and  in  waste  places,  had  grown 
and  spread  to  near-by  fields,  so  that  some  farmers 
were  worried  about  their  crops.  It  was  getting  worse 
every  day,  and  the  boys  lost  their  love  for  these 
creatures.  They  began  to  look  upon  them  as  enemies 
to  every  man.  John  Conelly  said  that  they  ate 
every  kind  of  plant  that  came  within  their  reach, 
and  he  had  even  seen  them  gnaw  the  wooden  parts  of 
his  mowing-machine.  George  Hyde  said  they  had 
nibbled  on  the  hard  handle  of  his  garden  fork  which 
had  been  left  in  an  upright  position  in  the  garden 
for  several  days. 

The  boys  became  very  bitter  against  the  insects 
which  they  had  given  such  protection  and  sympathy 
during  the  winter.  One  day  they  noticed  that  the 
food  in  one  of  their  cages  had  been  eaten  or  dried 
up  long  ago. 

"Say,  Freddie,"  Willie  called,  "we  forgot  to  feed 
them  in  this  cage  and  they  must  surely  be  dead." 


98  FARM   SPIES 

After  careful  examination  they  found  some  of  the 
insects  still  alive,  one  eating  another  grasshopper. 

"This  is  the  limit !  !  !  "  cried  Willie.  "They  are 
cannibals.  Why,  Freddie,  there  is  no  knowing  what 
they  might  not  be  guilty  of." 

"To  kill  them  you  would  have  to  put  one  in  a  cage 
without  any  kind  of  plants  or  other  insects, "  said 
Freddie. 

"That  would  not  do,"  retorted  Willie;  "they 
would  gnaw  the  wood.  It  would  be  necessary  to  put 
one  in  a  metal  cage." 

"There  is  one  use  we  could  put  that  old  pile  of  tin 
cans  to,"  said  Freddie. 

!    "What  do  you  mean?"    asked  Willie.     "Put  a 
bug  in  each  tin  can  and  let  it  starve?  "    • 

"Yes,"  replied  Freddie.  "If  I  got  near  enough 
to  catch  him  I  would  'lambast'  him  with  a  stick  and 
it  would  beat  your  method." 

:<  What  beats  me  is  the  way  they  live,"  explained 
Willie.  "They  don't  live  like  common  folks,  but 
they  remind  me  of  those  rich  people  just  outside  of 
Waverly.  They  eat  a  late  breakfast  and  then  eat 
again  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  while  the 
working-man  eats  three  square  meals  a  day.  These 
grasshoppers  prefer  the  tender  buds  and  leaves 
and  remain  near  the  tops  of  plants  from  early  morn- 
ing till  about  ten  o'clock;  then  they  leave  for  the 
lower  portions  of  the  plants  and  remain  there  till 


GRASSHOPPERS  99 

about  three  in  the  afternoon.  During  rainy  weather 
and  cold  nights  they  remain  on  or  near  the  ground. 
They  have  strong  wings  but  fly  very  little." 

On  July  Fourth,  the  neighbors  of  that  section 
had  all  gone  to  the  picnic  in  Millers'  grove.  There 
were  races,  speeches,  and  fireworks.  During  the 
afternoon  a  number  of  farmers  had  gathered  under 
the  old  elm  tree  near  the  well  and  were  talking 
about  the  hard  times  on  account  of  the  large  num- 
bers of  grasshoppers.  Most  of  them  believed  that 
it  was  the  worst  grasshopper  year  they  had  ever 
seen.  William  Carnes  listened  to  what  they  said, 
and  when  he  began  talking  it  acted  on  that  group 
of  farmers  like  a  whirlwind  on  a  pile  of  dead  leaves. 
Some  walked  away  in  disgust,  others  stopped  and 
looked  at  Mr.  Carnes  in  surprise,  that  such  a  good 
man  and  splendid  farmer  should  talk  so.  It  is  well 
that  some  stayed,  because  when  evening  came  some 
of  them  had  different  ideas  about  farming,  and  these 
were  better  than  any  they  had  before. 

"  There  are  not  enough  grasshoppers,  and  that  is 
what  I  am  sorry  about/'  he  said.  It  was  this  remark 
that  had  that  lightning  effect  on  the  group.  Those 
who  stayed  looked  at  Mr.  Carnes  and  thundered, 
"What  is  that!  !  !" 

"You  fellows  make  me  tired.  I  can  see  how  the 
grasshoppers  can  be  terrible  pests  in  the  West  and 
South  where  the  country  is  thinly  settled  and  the 


100  FARM   SPIES 

wild  and  waste  lands  are  not  yet  brought  under 
cultivation.  Right  here  we  are  in  one  of  the  oldest 
sections  of  the  country  and  few  people  have  more 
than  they  could  handle  properly  if  they  would." 

A  general  dispute  had  arisen  by  this  time,  in  which 
everyone  wanted  to  wbe  heard,  and  it  sounded  some- 
thing like  the  cackling  of  a  flock  of  geese  that  had 
been  suddenly  disturbed. 

"Be  still  there,  gentlemen/'  called  Jim  Ferguson. 
"I  have  never  known  a  time  when  Will  could  not 
back  his  judgment,  and  I  bet  he  can  do  it  this  time. 
In  spite  of  all  the  grasshoppers,  he  has  made  about  as 
good  crops  as  if  the  grasshoppers  had  not  been  here. 
We  all  know  that  he  is  a  farmer  in  a  class  by  himself, 
and  I  want  to  hear  him  explain  what  he  means  by 
saying  that  he  wished  there  had  been  many  more 
of  them." 

The  group  listened,  and  then  quieted  in  order  to 
give  William  a  chance  to  explain. 

Mr.  Carnes  continued:  "Many  of  you  still  farm 
as  the  Pilgrims  did  when  they  landed  in  New  Eng- 
land nearly  three  hundred  years  ago.  In  early  days 
it  was  believed  that  when  a  boy  was  not  fit  for  any- 
thing else  he  was  the  boy  to  stay  on  the  farm.  That 
time  has  passed,  but  maybe  you  never  noticed  it. 
Farming,  to-day,  requires  an  entirely  different  class 
of  men  from  what  it  did  a  hundred  years  ago.  We 
can  no  more  afford  to  have  a  sleepy-head  at  the 


GRASSHOPPERS.^  101 


head  of  a  farm  than  to  have  a  sleeping  man  at  the 
throttle  of  the  engine  of  a  fast  train.  Farming  is  a 
business  which  requires  education,  training,  and  skill. 
You  do  not  use  foresight.  We  had  a  severe  grass- 
hopper outbreak  last  year,  and  you  had  every  reason 
to  suspect  that  there  would  be  one  this  year.  You 
never  thought  of  watching  where  they  laid  most  of 
their  eggs.  You  noticed  last  spring  that  they  first 
appeared  in  large  numbers  in  pastures,  along  hedges, 
roadsides,  and  in  waste  places,  but  you  never  tried 
to  do  anything  to  stop  them.  When  they  had  spread 
over  your  crops  and  destroyed  them,  you  sat  down 
and  grumbled  about  the  hard  luck  and  the  hard 
times." 

"Now,  Will,  tell  us  just  what  you  did  this  summer 
to  keep  those  pesky  things  out  of  your  crops,"  Jim 
requested. 

"I  did  many  things  this  summer,  Jim,"  Will  ex- 
plained. "Many  of  them  I  expected  to  do,  but 
equally  as  many  came  up  unexpectedly.  You  see 
a  farmer  has  to  watch  everything  on  the  place  and 
do  what  is  necessary  from  time  to  time,  even  if  he 
has  not  planned  it  that  way.  I  do  not  farm  by  rule. 
So,  the  first  thing  I  did  was  to  have  as  little  waste 
land  as  possible.  I  watched  the  grasshoppers  last 
season,  and  during  the  winter  I  knew  where  they 
would  come  from  in  case  of  an  outbreak.  The  ab- 
sence of  much  of  the  waste  land  gave  me  fewer  grass- 


102  FARM  SPIES 

hoppers  to  start  with  in  the  spring.  I  do  not  leave 
my  stubble  and  rubbish  on  the  fields  in  the  winter, 
but  I  plow  them  and  plant  cover-crops  on  them.  I 
pull  the  stumps  because  they  are  not  only  wasting 
land  and  very  inconvenient,  but  they  are  among  the 
worst  things  to  offer  winter  shelter  for  various  pests. 
Sometimes  I  cannot  do  all  the  plowing  I  want  to 
do,  and  then  I  disk  or  drill  the  cover  crops  between 
the  rows.  I  do  not  let  my  oat  and  wheat  stubble 
stand  after  harvest,  but  disk  them  and  plant  the 
land  in  peas.  This  gives  me  hay,  adds  nitrogen  to 
the  soil,  and  protects  my  field  from  washing  and 
drying.  When  I  see  that  the  grasshoppers  are  very 
abundant,  I  keep  myself  in  readiness,  and  by  the 
time  they  advance  to  the  crop  I  have  that  crop 
sprayed.  It  often  is  necessary  only  to  spray  a  strip 
on  that  side  where  the  attack  will  begin.  The  chief 
damage  is  done  by  the  full-grown  insects,  and  we  must 
act  while  they  are  still  young.  I  find  by  experience 
that  whatever  you  do  it  is  best  to  do  it  when  they 
are  still  young." 

u You  said  spraying;  what  do  you  spray?"  one 
asked. 

"I  use  arsenate  of  lead  mainly;  some  use  Paris 
green ;  and  in  some  sections  they  use  arsenite  of 
soda  made  up  with  water  and  syrup.  The  arsenite 
of  soda  is  cheaper  and  acts  very  quickly,  but  in  our 
moist,  warm  climate  of  the  South  I  am  afraid  to 


GRASSHOPPERS  103 

use  it  on  some  crops  for  fear  that  it  will  burn  the 
leaves.  Arsenate  of  lead  is  safe,  and  whenever  I  am 
in  the  least  in  doubt  I  use  it." 

"How  about  London  purple?"  others  asked. 

"It  is  more  uncertain  as  to  burning  the  leaves 
than  Paris  green,  but  I  use  it  sometimes  when  the 
grasshoppers  are  confined  to  weeds,  which  I  do  not 
mind  killing." 

"How does  it  kill  the  grasshoppers?"  some  asked. 

"•It  poisons  them.  All  the  sprays  I  mentioned 
are  poisonous  and  must  be  handled  with  care." 

"How  do  you  put  the  spray  on?"  Jim  asked. 

"  I  have  a  spray  pump.  I  can  use  it  for  my  orchard 
or  garden  and  I  have  a  row  spraying  attachment 
which  I  can  use  in  spraying  field  crops  or  potatoes." 

"If  you  sprayed  meadows  or  pastures,  should  you 
not  be  afraid  of  poisoning  the  stock  that  eats  the 
grass  or  hay?"  a  number  of  farmers  asked. 

"For  treating  meadows  or  pastures  I  use  the  bran 
mash  or  grasshopper  mixture,  made  strictly  accord- 
ing to  directions.  On  alfalfa  I  scatter  this  broad- 
cast. You  must  not  forget  the  lemon  or  orange 
juice,  for  this  helps  very  much  to  attract  the  insects. 
In  small  pastures  this  can  be  put  out  on  shingles  so 
that  it  can  be  removed,  for  in  this  way  it  will  not 
poison  cattle.  When  this  happens  to  be  near  the 
home,  poultry  must  be  kept  in  the  pen  or  they  will 
eat  it.  In  the  West  they  use  grasshopper  catchers 


104  FARM   SPIES 

on  pastures  and  on  field-crops.  I  have  not  used  one, 
but  my  brother,  who  lives  in  Utah,  has  told  me  about 
them  and  he  says  '  They  sure  catch  them. '  ' 

"I  am  going  to  watch  where  the  grasshoppers 
stay  on  my  place  over  winter,"  said  Jim  as  the  com- 
pany broke  up. 

"So  will  I,"  said  several  others  as  they  walked 
down  the  road. 

Johnny  Parker  had  sat  throughout  the  conversa- 
tion and  he  took  in  everything  that  was  said  as  a 
sponge  takes  water.  He  had  not  said  one  word  ;  he 
did  not  have  time,  because  he  was  listening  as  hard 
as  he  could.  As  he  started  to  go  he  said  to  Mr. 
Carnes,  "William,  I  am  coming  over  to  your  house 
the  first  chance  I  get  to  look  at  your  pump." 

"All  right,  Johnny,  come  over  and  I  will  show  it 
to  you,"  Mr.  Carnes  replied. 


CHINCH-BUGS 

IT  was  on  a  Saturday  afternoon  in  December 
when  five  boys  of  the  neighborhood  had  gathered  at 
the  home  of  Sammy  Sprague.  The  day  was  lovely  — 
one  of  those  warm,  cheerful  winter  afternoons ;  the 
ground  was  dry  and  it  seemed  that  everything  was 
just  in  the  right  condition  for  boys  to  have  a  good 
time.  While  they  were  playing  in  the  yard  Mr. 
Sprague  came  and  opened  the  corn-crib  to  get  some 
corn  for  the  mules.  Billy  Burnet,  who  was  near  the 
door  at  that  time,  did  just  what  any  other  boy  would 
have  done  had  he  been  there  instead  of  Billy, —  he 
peeked  into  the  crib.  That  Billy  did  that  was  no 
sign  that  he  was  a  bad  boy,  nor  was  it  a  sign  of  bad 
manners,  but  he  was  a  healthy  robust  boy,  full  of 
life,  and  full  of  boy-curiosity.  Like  every  other 
healthy  boy  he  found  the  world  full  of  interesting 
things ;  he  was  always  afraid  that  something  might 
happen  that  he  would  fail  to  hear  or  see.  For  this 
reason  he  was  continually  peeking  into,  over,  and 
around  everything  and  continually  asking  ques- 
tions. Did  you  ever  see  a  boy  like  Billy? 

105 


106  FARM  SPIES 

When  he  peeked  into  Mr.  Sprague' s  corn-crib  he 
said,  "  Great  goshens !  you  have  a  lot  of  corn,  Mr. 
Sprague.  Did  you  make  it  all  on  your  farm  or  did 
you  buy  some  of  it?" 

"No,  my  boy,"  Mr.  Sprague  answered,  "I  raised 
that  corn  on  my  farm,  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
chinch-bugs  I  should  have  more  than  you  see  here 
now.  Those  beggars  surely  damaged  my  corn 
severely ;  I  judge  they  ruined  nearly  one-fourth  of 
my  crop."  While  he  was  picking  up  the  corn  he 
noticed  that  Billy  was  eying  him  from  head  to  foot 
with  grave,  wide  open,  questioning  eyes.  When  he 
had  stepped  through  the  door  again  and  had  fas- 
tened it  he  saw  that  Billy's  eyes  were  still  on  him. 

Bursting  into  a  laugh  he  looked  at  the  boy  and 
asked:  "Why  are  you  looking  me  over  so  gravely, 
sonny?  I  am  Sam  Sprague,  your  old  neighbor,  who 
used  to  joggle  you  on  his  knees  when  you  were  a 
little  'shaver.'" 

Billy,  without  changing  his  manner,  asked,  "What 
did  you  say  damaged  your  corn?" 

By  this  time  the  other  boys  had  crowded  around, 
because  they  had  heard  Mr.  Sprague  and  Billy 
talking,  and  boylike,  feared  that  something  inter- 
esting might  happen  without  their  knowing  about  it. 

"Chinch-bugs,"  Mr.  Sprague  replied. 

"I  never  heard  of  their  eating  corn,"  said  Billy. 
"I  thought  they  lived  in  houses  only." 


CHINCH-BUGS  107 

"Haw,  haw,  haw/'  Mr.  Sprague  laughed.  "Who 
ever  heard  of  chinch-bugs  in  houses?" 

The  boys  had  become  interested,  and  were  looking 
for  some  argument,  but  Billy  could  not  see  anything 
funny  about  having  his  question  laughed  at,  because 
he  was  sure  that  they  lived  in  houses.  He  turned 
red  in  the  face  and  retorted:  "Why,  Mr.  Sprague, 
you  must  be  joking;  just  the  other  day  old  Aunt 
Amy  was  scolding  like  a  guinea  because  she  said 
that  these  bugs  were  all  through  her  house.  She  was 
scrubbing  her  bedsteads  with  soapsuds  so  strong 
that  it  made  my  eyes  water.  She  was  scolding  and 
scrubbing  and  sweating  to  beat  the  stir,  and  after 
watching  her  awhile  I  made  up  my  mind  that  these 
bugs  deserved  careful  attention.  I  told  her  to  fumi- 
gate with  sulphur,  and  explained  to  her  how  my 
father  did  it,  but  she  was  too  angry  to  listen  to  any 
explanations." 

"What  did  she  call  the  bugs?"  Mr.  Sprague 
asked. 

Billy  replied,  "She  called  them  chinch-bugs, — 
well,  no,  she  didn't  either ;  she  called  them  chinches 
for  short." 

Mr.  Sprague  laughed  some  more  and  walked 
toward  the  barnyard  fence  where  the  feed-troughs 
were  located ;  the  boys  followed  him. 

"Billy,"  he  said,  "we  are  both  right,  but  the 
trouble  is  that  you  are  talking  about  one  thing  and 


108  FARM  SPIES 

I  about  another.  I  am  talking  about  chinch-bugs, 
which  are  field-bugs,  but  you  are  talking  about 
chinches,  which  are  bedbugs.  They  are  both  in- 
teresting kinds  of  bugs,  but  while  yours  is  merely  a 
sleep  and  peace-destroyer,  mine  is  a  bread-destroyer. 
If  I  had  my  choice,  I  would  rather  have  your  bug  in 
my  house  than  my  bug  in  the  cornfield,  because  I 
know  how  to  get  rid  of  chinches  but  do  not  know 
how  to  control  the  chinch-bugs." 

"Mr.  Sprague,  do  you  know  that  bedbugs  carry 
diseases?"  Frank  Gates  asked. 

"I  did  not  know  that,  Frank;   is  that  so?" 

"Yes,"  all  the  boys  answered;  "we  learned  that 
in  school  and  since  then  we  would  not  allow  one  of 
those  bugs  around  our  house  if  we  knew  it  was  there." 

"Well,  I  guess  you  are  right  then,  boys,"  Mr. 
Sprague  answered. 

"Talking  about  the  chinch-bugs,  are  they  large 
enough  for  one  to  see  them  when  they  are  on  the 
corn?"  the  boys  asked. 

"They  certainly  are,"  Mr.  Sprague  assured  them. 

"How  do  they  look?"  they  asked. 

"With  their  eyes,  I  reckon,"  Mr.  Sprague  an- 
swered with  a  mischievous  smile.  The  boys  laughed, 
but  insisted  that  he  describe  them.  Mr.  Sprague 
then  told  them  that  the  full-grown  ones  were  black 
with  whitish  wings  and  the  young  were  reddish  and 
wingless. 


CHINCH-BUGS 


109 


By  this  time  Harry  Fulmer 
had  become  interested.  Al- 
though Harry  was  one  of  those 
boys  who  said  very  little,  he 
was  a  great  favorite  with  the 
boys.  He  had  the  habit  of 
not  talking  or  asking  ques- 
tions until  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  what  he  wanted  to 
find  out.  He  would  then  ask 
his  questions  direct  and  in  a  FIG.  48.  — "That  the  fuii- 

,  ,  ,     ,  .  grown  ones  were  black  with 

Way    that    COUld    not    be    miS-        whitish  wings."    Enlarged. 

taken. 

"Did  you  say  there  were  many  on  your  corn  last 
summer,  Mr.  Sprague?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  plenty  of  them/'  Mr.  Sprague  answered. 


(After  Webster,  Bur.  Enl.,  U.  S. 
Dept.  Agr.) 


FIG.  49.  — 


(After  Webster,  Bur.  Ent.,  U.  S.  Dept.  Agr.) 
1  While  the  young  were  reddish  and  wingless. 


"Did  they  bother  your  corn  the  summer  before 
last?"  he  asked  again. 


110  FARM  SPIES 

uYes,  very  much.  Ever  since  I  can  remember 
they  damaged  corn  once  every  two  or  three  years, 
but  during  the  last  three  years  they  have  been  very 
bad  every  summer,  owing  to  dry  weather." 

"Do  you  expect  them  next  year?"  Harry  asked. 

"I  surely  do  unless  we  have  a  wet  season." 


FIG.  50.  —  "Unless  we  have  a  wet  season." 

"Where  are  the  bugs  now?" 

Mr.  Sprague  laughed,  "I  do  not  know,  but  I 
reckon  they  all  died  last  fall  or  froze  to  death  when 
we  had  that  cold  snap  early  in  December." 

"If  they  are  all  dead,  then  I  do  not  see  where 
your  bugs  can  come  from  next  year.  If  there  are  to 
be  any  bugs  next  year,  then  there  must  surely  be 


CHINCH-BUGS  111 

some  of  them  staying  somewhere  over  winter,  if 
what  we  are  taught  in  school  is  correct." 

"Now,  Harry,  that  looks  like  good  sense  to  me," 
Mr.  Sprague  replied.  "Where  are  the  bugs  now? 
Where  do  you  suppose  these  frail  creatures  could  hide 
to  be  able  to  live  through  snow,  sleet,  and  ice,  such 
as  winter  brings  ?  What  shelter  protects  them  from 
the  frosty  air  and  biting  winds  ?  Now,  boys,  answer 
quick." 

Every  boy  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  but  no 
one  could  answer  the  question. 

"Listen,  boys,  there  will  be  a  farmers'  picnic  in 
the  grove  back  of  the  town  hall  at  Kingston  on 
January  4.  I  would  like  to  find  out  where  the 
chinch-bugs  stay  during  the  winter,  and  if  you  boys 
can  find  it  out  for  me  I  will  take  all  of  you  in  my  car 
and  drive  you  to  that  meeting;  it  is  twenty-one 
miles  from  here." 

"Hurrah  !  "  they  yelled,  and  threw  their  caps  high 
in  the  air,  each  boy  catching  another  boy's  cap. 
"We  will  surely  find  the  bugs,"  they  said. 

Ten  minutes  later,  when  Mr.  Sprague  was  sitting 
in  the  house  reading,  he  missed  the  noise  of  the 
boys'  playing.  He  looked  through  the  window  and 
saw  a  sight  that  made  a  big  smile  creep  over  his  face. 
Under  the  old  water  oak  sat  the  five  boys,  each  and 
every  one  looking  as  grave  as  an  owl  and  talking 
about  a  subject  which,  judging  from  their  looks, 


112 


FARM  SPIES 


they  must  have  thought  a  very  weighty  one.  Mr. 
Sprague  had  entirely  forgotten  that  he  had  asked 
them  to  find  the  bugs,  and  also  his  promise  to  take 
them  to  the  farmers'  meeting.  "Hm,  boys  will  be 
boys/'  he  murmured  to  himself,  and  turned  again 


FIG.  51.  —  "Under  the  old  water  oak  sat  the  five  boys." 

to  his  reading.  If  he  .ever  recalled  his  promise  and 
thought  that  the  boys  had  taken  it  in  jest,  as  he 
meant  it,  he  was  mistaken.  They  were  holding  a 
powwow  for  the  purpose  of  devising  ways  and 
means  for  finding  out  where  the  chinch-bugs  stayed 
during  the  winter.  They  had  to  go  to  school  during 
the  week,  but  all  of  them  felt  sure  that  they 


CHINCH-BUGS  113 

could  meet  under  that  water  oak  the  following 
Saturday  morning  to  start  for  a  bug-hunt.  It  was 
getting  late,  and  having  completed  their  plans  they 
left  for  their  homes. 

On  the  next  Friday  morning  it  was  raining,  and 
by  noon  the  air  had  become  so  cold  that  every  rain- 
drop froze  to  ice.  When  the  boys  went-  to  their  beds 
that  night  they  could  hear  the  swishing  of  the 
frozen  rain  among  the  ice-covered  branches  of  the 
trees.  It  did  look  as  if  there  would  be  no  bug-hunt 
the  next  day. 

On  Saturday  morning  when  they  awoke  the  sleet 
had  stopped,  the  sky  was  clear,  and  the  sun  was 
rising  in  all  his  splendor.  It  was  a  beautiful  world, 
with  rainbows  glittering  on  every  ice-covered  tree 
and  bush.  After  an  early  breakfast  they  started  for 
the  water  oak.  During  the  week  they  had  interested 
Mr.  Minter,  the  pastor,  in  what  they  were  trying 
to  do,  and  he  was  waiting  for  them  at  the  oak  tree 
when  they  arrived. 

They  started  for  Mr.  Blakeley's  farm  because  it 
was  the  most  slovenly  looking  farm  in  that  section, 
and  they  felt  sure  that  it  was  the  best  place  to  look 
for  the  chinch  bugs.  "  There  is  plenty  of  rubbish 
on  his  farm  for  the  bugs  to  hide  under  during  the 
winter,"  they  said.  When  they  came  to  the  pasture 
bottom  they  found  it  flooded,  with  only  a  narrow 
ridge  of  dry  land  left  by  which  they  could  reach 


114 


FARM   SPIES 


the  uplands,  where  they  expected  to  find  the  bugs. 
That  ridge,  however,  was  held  by  Jim  Blakeley's 
flock  of  geese.  There  were  six  mean  ganders  in  the 
flock,  and  the  way  they  hissed  at  them  led  the  boys 
to  believe  that  the  geese  were  determined  to  defend 


FIG.  52.  —  "There  is  plenty  of  rubbish  on  his  farm." 

that  ridge.  It  became  a  question  of  taking  the 
ridge  by  storm  or  retracing  their  steps  and  reaching 
the  uplands  by  a  long  route.  They  might  have 
stopped  to  think  it  over,  but  Harry  Fulmer  had 
made  up  his  mind,  and  waving  his  stick  high  above 
his  head  he  called  " Charge  !  !  !"  Up  the  ridge  they 


CHINCH-BUGS  115 

rushed  like  a  pack  of  wolves.  The  geese,  flapping 
their  wings,  began  a  retreat  which  soon  became  a 
rout.  They  scattered  pell-mell  off  the  ridge  into 
the  water  below  and  swam  away.  When  the  boys 
reached  the  uplands  they  stopped  and  waited  for 
Mr.  Minter.  When  he  came  up  he  said,  "Boys,  I 
wish  that  they  had  been  chinch-bugs." 

"We  should  be  heroes  then/'  the  boys  replied. 

"Yes,"  said  Harry,  "we  should  have  earned  our 
ride  already,  for  we  surely  routed  them  and  scouted 
them,  nor  lost  a  single  man."  The  boys  all  laughed 
and  walked  on. 

When  they  came  to  a  wire  fence  at  the  edge  of  a 
cotton  field  Sammy  exclaimed,  "By  the  way,  boys, 
I  nearly  forgot  something.  I  have  with  me  here 
little  bottles  with  dead  chinch-bugs  in  them,  one 
bottle  for  each  of  you.  The  other  evening  papa  hap- 
pened to  recall  that  he  had  gathered  a  lot  of  them 
last  summer  and  put  them  in  a  bottle.  He  put  them 
in  these  small  bottles  and  asked  me  to  give  each  of 
you  one  of  them  so  you  would  know  chinch-bugs 
when  you  met  them  and  not  make  the  mistake 
of  taking  a  chipmunk  or  a  field-mouse  for  one  of 
them." 

With  much  laughter  the  boys  took  the  bottles, 
agreeing  that  this  was  very  thoughtful  of  Mr. 
Sprague.  Each  boy  examined  the  bugs  in  his 
bottle  with  squinting  eyes. 


116  FARM   SPIES 

When  they  had  crossed  the  wire  fence  they  were 
in  a  thick  growth  of  bermuda  grass.  "It  looks  to 
me,"  said  Mr.  Minter,  "as  though  this  would  be  a 
good  place  for  them  to  spend  the  winter." 

"Under  the  ice?"  the  boys  asked,  surprised. 

Mr.  Minter  explained,  "There  are  many  tufts  of 
grass  here  that  have  not  been  soaked  by  the  weather 
and  under  them  the  bugs  find  shelter.  Put  your 
sticks  into  action  and  make  a  search." 

With  the  sticks  they  had  cut  when  they  started, 
they  whipped  the  ice  from  the  tufts  of  grass,  then 
got  down  on  their  hands  and  knees  to  make  a  careful 
examination.  After  they  had  worked  on  that  grass 
for  a  while  Sammy  called  that  he  had  found  one. 
They  all  ran  to  the  spot,  and  after  they  had  compared 
the  bug  which  Sammy  found  with  those  IQ  their 
bottles  they  all  agreed  that  it  was  a  chinch-bug. 
Not  being  able  to  find  more  there,  they  crossed 
another  fence  into  Mr.  Blakeley's  old  corn-field, 
full  of  stumps.  Around  every  stump  there  was  a 
mass  of  weeds  and  old  dead  grass  and  many  of  the 
stumps  were  covered  with  loose,  shaggy  bark.  The 
boys  were  now  happy,  for  they  soon  saw  that  their 
ride  was  earned.  Under  rubbish,  matted  grass,  under 
stones  and  in  the  refuse  on  the  terraces  and  in  the 
field  they  found  the  chinch-bugs  in  abundance. 
Willie  Foy  found  a  lot  of  them  in  the  old  husks  and 
behind  the  dried  leaf  boots  of  old  corn-stalks  that 


CHINCH-BUGS 


117 


were  left  in  the  field.  When  they  had  finished  this 
field  it  was  dinner-time,  and  they  found  a  nice  place 
on  the  old  covered  bridge  to  eat  their  lunches. 
They  spent  the  afternoon  roaming  over  a  large  part 
of  the  country,  and  when  they  came  back  to  Sammy's 


FIG.  53.  —  "And  they  found  a  nice  place  on  the  old  covered  bridge." 

home  with  their  bottles  full  of  living  chinch-bugs, 
Mr.  Sprague  was  very  much  pleased.  "You  cer- 
tainly must  have  found  their  winter  homes/7  he 
said  with  much  surprise.  "It  means  that  we  must 
clean  our  fields  better  in  the  fall  than  we  have  been 
doing/'  he  said. 


118  FARM  SPIES 

Mr.  Sprague  was  so  much  pleased  that  he  had 
learned  so  much  about  the  winter  homes  of  the 
chinch-bugs  that  he  would  never  get  through  talking 
about  it.  When  he  met  one  of  his  neighbors  he  would 
say,  "  Do  you  expect  to  be  bothered  with  chinch-bugs 
next  year?  " 

"Yes,  unless  we  should  have  a  wet  season,"  the 
neighbor  would  reply. 

"Well,  let  me  tell  you  something/'  Mr.  Sprague 
would  then  say;  "we  do  not  give  enough  attention 
to  the  cleaning  up  of  our  fields  in  the  fall." 

Of  course  the  neighbor  would  then  ask,  "What 
has  that  to  do  with  the  chinch-bugs  next  year?" 
and  laugh,  thinking  that  Mr.  Sprague  had  lost 
track  of  the  subject. 

Mr.  Sprague  would  then  explain  how  the  bugs 
wintered  in  and  about  the  old  rubbish,  grass,  and 
refuse  of  crops  left  in  the  field.  Nearly  every  neigh- 
bor who  listened  to  this  story  would,  after  a  little 
thinking,  exclaim,  "That  looks  sensible  to  me  be- 
cause the  worst  spots  in  my  fields  always  appear 
near  stumps,  stones,  trash,  and  along  terraces." 

Mr.  Sprague  would  then  call  attention  to  the  im- 
portance of  knowing  more  about  this  bug,  and  urge 
that  they  all  attend  the  farmers'  meeting  at  Kings- 
ton. "They  will  have  a  train  there,  showing  live- 
stock, grains,  farm-machinery,  and  bugs ;  there 
will  also  be  speakers,"  he  said.  Some  would  then 


CHINCH-BUGS  119 

say  that  the  speakers  at  those  meetings  were  book- 
worms and  did  not  know  how  to  guide  a  plow.  Mr. 
Sprague  would  then  tell  them  that  most  of  the  men 
that  came  as  speakers  from  the  Agricultural  College 
had  been  reared  on  farms  and  had  learned  to  plow 
and  to  do  every  other  kind  of  work  necessary  on  the 
farm.  It  takes  a  different  man  to  run  the  farm. 
"They  have  no  business  to  plow  now/'  he  would  say. 
"  If  plowing  were  their  business,  they  would  not 
know  any  more  about  bugs  than  I.  I  believe  that  I 
am  a  fairly  intelligent  man,  and  what  I  want  is  facts ; 
when  I  have  them  I  can  put  them  into  practice  as 
well  as  anybody,  and  those  fellows  who  spend  their 
lives  studying  bugs  know  the  bug  facts  even  if  they 
do  not  know  how  to  guide  a  plow.  If  they  spent 
their  time  plowing,  they  could  not  know  so  much 
about  their  special  subjects.  They  are  experts;  do 
you  get  me?  " 

In  most  cases  they  did  get  his  idea,  and  nearly 
every  farmer  of  that  neighborhood  was  at  the 
farmers'  meeting.  The  day  was  lovely,  and  the  boys 
enjoyed  their  ride  in  the  big  touring  car. 

Sure  enough,  among  the  speakers  was  a  bugman, 
and  this  tickled  the  boys.  When  the  program  had 
been  finished  the  chairman  said  that  the.  meeting 
was  open  for  any  questions  that  any  one  wished  to 
ask.  It  was  surprising  how  many  questions  were 
asked  about  bugs,  and  especially  chinch-bugs.  The 


120  FARM   SPIES 

boys  listened  closely  to  all  the  questions  and  also 
to  the  answers  by  the  speakers. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  that  Mr.  Jim  Blakeley  is 
here ;  I  did  not  think  that  he  would  come/'  said 
Mr.  Sprague  when  the  meeting  was  over. 

"He  and  I  were  chatting  down  there  in  the  grove 
a  little  while  ago.  I  never  saw  any  man  so  inter- 
ested. I  asked  him  how  he  liked  the  meeting,  and 
he  said  that  it  was  fine  and  that  he  had  learned  a 
number  of  good  things.  He  seemed  to  feel  satisfied 
that  his  old  stump-field  needed  cleaning  up,  because 
he  was  sure,  from  what  was  said  at  the  meeting, 
that  it  must  offer  the  best  kind  of  shelter  for  the 
bugs  to  pass  the  winter." 

About  two  weeks  after  the  meeting  Mr.  Blakeley 
called  at  the  home  of  Mr.  Sprague.  Will  Brown, 
Walter  Carey,  and  Fred  Conner  happened  to  call 
at  the  same  time  to  spend  the  evening. 

When  a  few  neighbors  meet  like  this  to  spend  a 
pleasant  evening,  you  know  that  generally  every 
kind  of  subject  is  discussed,  but  this  evening  the 
talk  drifted  to  chinch-bugs,  and  Will  Brown  said 
afterwards  that  he  had  never  before  believed  that 
one  could  spend  so  pleasantly  an  evening  talking 
about  bugs.  It  was  Mr.  Blakeley  who  started  it, 
and,  in  fact,  he  had  come  on  purpose  to  talk  to  Mr. 
Sprague  about  this  matter. 

Mr.  Blakeley  said,  "The  last  two  weeks  I  have 


CHINCH-BUGS  121 

hardly  done  anything  except  clean  my  fields.  I 
found  the  bugs  all  right,  and  I  have  a  notion  that  the 
'  bugf eller '  at  that  meeting  knew  what  he  was  talking 
about.  He  said  that  when  the  warm  weather  came 
along  these  bugs  would  fly  away  and  hunt  growing 
grasses,  oats,  wheat,  and  such  for  food.  When 
they  have  found  it  and  have  settled  down  they  lay 
eggs  which  hatch  into  the  little  reddish,  young  bugs 
that  have  no  wings.  Well,  he  said  that  they  did  much 
less  damage  in  wet  seasons  ;  I  have  noticed  that  my- 
self, and  now,  ahem  !  if  we  should  have  rainy  spells 
I  reckon  I  have  done  all  the  cleaning  for  nothing." 

"Very  likely  not/'  said  Mr.  Sprague,  "because 
there  are  other  bad  insects  passing  the  winter  in 
the  same  way.  Then  again,  it  is  like  insurance ; 
you  never  know  when  your  buildings  may  burn  down, 
but  you  pay  for  the  insurance  just  the  same.  If 
we  only  knew  beforehand  what  the  weather  would 
be,  then  we  could  plan  everything  just  right,  couldn't 
we?" 

"Yes,  of  course/'  Mr.  Blakeley  agreed,  but 
continued,  "that  ( bugf  eller'  said  that  three  dif- 
ferent things  could  be  done.  One  was  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  winter  quarters  by  cleaning,  burning, 
plowing,  and  the  like.  Well,  I  did  that,  but  the 
second  thing  he  spoke  about  was  burying.  I  don't 
see  how  that  could  be  done.  Bury  all  the  bugs? 
Piffle!" 


122  FARM  SPIES 

The  other  men  could  hardly  keep  from  laughing 
at  this.  "He  did  not  say  burying/'  Will  Brown 
explained,  "but  he  said  barriers.  When  the  wheat 
and  oats  are  harvested  the  bugs  spread  to  the  corn- 
fields for  food.  The  young  bugs  cannot  fly  and  have 
to  crawl,  and  that  is  the  reason  that  he  suggested 
barriers  between  the  bugs  and  the  corn.  The  barrier 
may  be  a  deep  furrow  thrown  toward  the  bugs  so 
that  they  have  to  climb  its  steep  side  before  reach- 
ing the  corn.  The  furrows  can  be  improved  by 
digging  holes  with  a  pesthole  digger  about  fifteen 
or  twenty  feet  apart  in  the  bottom  of  the  furrow. 
The  furrow  must  be  kept  clean  and  in  good  con- 
dition." 

"The  best  barrier,  he  said,  was  prepared  as 
follows :  around  the  field  where  the  bugs  are,  and 
before  they  start  to  travel,  make  a  smooth  path 
and  pour  upon  it  a  narrow  line  of  road-oil,  tar,  or 
creosote.  This  line  the  bugs  cannot,  or  will  not, 
cross,  provided  the  line  is  freshened  from  time  to 
time.  On  the  side  of  this  line  next  to  where  the 
chinch-bugs  are,  pestholes  should  be  dug  about 
twenty  feet  apart  and  from  eighteen  inches  to  two 
feet  deep.  The  mouth  of  each  hole  should  slope  a 
little  and  should  be  so  made  that  it  will  touch 
the  line  of  road-oil,  tar,  or  creosote.  The  material 
may  be  poured  from  a  pot  with  a  spout,  in  a  stream 
about  one-half  inch  thick." 


CHINCH-BUGS  123 

"I  understand  that/'  said  Mr.  Blakeley,  "but 
what  was  that  spray?" 

"  Sprays  have  to  be  used  when  the  corn  is  attacked 
by  the  old  bugs  as  they  come  from  winter  quarters 
and  by  the  young  hatching  from  their  eggs ;  also 
when  somebody  has  been  asleep  and  let  the  bugs 
travel  to  his  corn  from  another  field  and  has  not 
stopped  them  with  a  barrier.  He  said  that  a  good 
spray  could  be  made  with  one-fourth  ounce  strong 
tobacco  extract,  one  ounce  good  laundry  soap,  and 
one  gallon  of  water.  The  tobacco  can  be  omitted 
if  it  cannot  be  obtained.  The  bugs  should  all  be 
wet,  but  care  should  be  taken  not  to  fill  the  '  curl '  at 
the  top  of  the  corn  with  the  spray." 

At  this  moment  Sammy  came  into  the  room, 
yawned,  and  threw  himself  down  in  a  large  chair. 

"Sammy,"  said  his  father,  "didn't  that  speaker 
say  that  there  were  two  kinds  of  chinch-bugs?" 

Sammy  had  fallen  asleep,  but  woke  when  his  father 
asked  the  question  and  answered  with  a  sleepy 
"No." 

"Well,  what  did  he  say?"  his  father  asked,  and 
they  listened.  From  halfway  down  in  slumber- 
land  they  heard  Sammy's  voice,  and  he  answered  as 
though  he  was  speaking  his  piece  in  school,  "He 
said  there  were  two  races  of  chinch-bugs,  the  long- 
winged  race  having  wings  as  long  as  the  body,  and 
the  short-winged  race,  having  the  wings  much 


124  FARM   SPIES 

shorter  than  the  body  when  full  grown.  He  said 
that  the  short-winged  form  was  more  inclined  to 
grasses  and  the  long-winged  race  is  chiefly  a  corn- 
pest." 

"Have  you  seen  both  in  your  bug-hunts  around 
here?"  they  asked.  After  waiting  some  time  they 
heard  a  faint  voice,  "All  that  I  have  seen  were  the 
long- winged." 

"How  many  broods  did  he  say  there  were  during 
the  season,  Sammy?"  Mr.  Sprague  asked  again. 

Sammy's  reply  was  a  faint  snoring,  as  if  some  one 
was  sawing  wood  about  half  a  mile  away.  They  all 
laughed  with  considerable  noise,  but  Sammy  kept 
on  snoring  and  did  not  hear  it. 

"I  remember  he  said  there  were  two  broods,  one 
in  the  small  grain  and  the  other  in  the  corn,"  Will 
Brown  answered  for  Sammy. 

Sammy's  snoring  reminded  the  men  that  it  was 
already  late,  and  so  they  parted  for  their  homes. 

The  people  of  the  Sprague  section  had  learned 
something  very  useful  and  interesting.  They  knew 
the  habits  and  life  of  the  chinch-bug  and  also  the 
ways  for  controlling  the  pest.  Some  try  to  use  all 
the  methods,  and  others  find  that  one  or  the  other 
properly  used  holds  the  bugs  in  check.  Mr.  Blake- 
ley's  farm  looks  like  a  different  piece  of  land ;  he 
has  cleaned  up*  the  brier  patches  and  has  pulled  the 
stumps,  and  his  fields,  which  looked  so  slovenly  the 


CHINCH-BUGS  125 

day  when  the  boys  stormed  the  ridge,  now  look 
cheerful  and  prosperous.  "If  these  bugs  intend  to 
stay  on  my  farm  during  the  winter,  they  will  surely 
have  to  be  keen  hunters  to  find  a  place  for  shelter/' 
he  says. 

"We  used  to  think  that  the  chinch-bugs  would 
drive  us  out  of  business/'  Mr.  Sprague  says,  "but 
it  looks  now  as  if  we  have  put  the  bugs  out  of  busi- 
ness. Not  only  that,  but  it  has  set  us  to  thinking, 
and  we  are  better  farmers  than  we  used  to  be.  Of 
course,  we  still  have  chinch-bugs,  but  they  are  much 
more  polite  and  considerate  than  they  were  several 
years  ago." 

And  all  this  good  work  started  when  Billy  Burnet 
peeked  into  Mr.  Sprague's  corn-crib  that  lovely 
December  afternoon. 


THE  COTTON  ROOT-LOUSE 

IT  was  in  the  spring  of  the  year.  The  sun  was 
sinking  on  the  western  horizon,  and  trees  and  bushes 
cast  long  shadows  over  the  landscape.  Every  living 
thing  was  hopeful,  and  the  farmers  of  the  Gardner 
section  were  more  hopeful  than  usual  because  the 
spring  weather  had  been  fine ;  they  had  all  pre- 
pared their  fields  well  and  had  finished  their  spring 
plantings.  The  cotton  was  just  coming  up  and 
with  the  eye,  when  helped  a  little  by  the  imagination, 
one  could  trace  the  rows  across  the  fields.  Every 
one  of  the  farmers  in  that  section  knew  that  a 
cotton-crop  well  planted  in  a  thoroughly  prepared 
seed-bed  was  half  the  battle.  Even  Si  Fletcher,  who 
rarely  agreed  with  anything,  said  that  this  was  cor- 
rect, provided  good  seed  was  planted. 

Joe  Gardner  was  the  youngest,  most  active,  and 
most  progressive  farmer  of  the  neighborhood,  and  as 
he  had  planted  earliest  of  the  other  farmers  his 
cotton  was  the  tallest  in  the  community.  But  Joe 
stood  by  the  old  bars  at  the  edge  of  the  cotton-field 
this  evening  and  was  very  angry.  Joe's  neighbors 
told  him  that  he  was  foolish  to  be  so  angry  about 

126 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  127 

something  that  he  could  not  have  prevented  and  to 
worry  about  things  that  he  could  not  change.  The 
truth  is  that  they  had  noticed  nothing  wrong  with 
their  cotton  except  that  they  had  very  broken  stands  ; 
they  did  not  think  much  about  it  because  they  said 
that  it  had  been  that  way  every  year  as  long  as  they 
could  remember,  and  that  it  was  natural.  When 
Joe  would  not  agree  to  this  some  of  the  older  men  said 
it  was  because  he  was  so  young.  "Wait  till  he  is  a 
little  older  and  he  will  know  better/'  one  old  neigh- 
bor said.  His  close  friends,  however,  did  not  talk 
that  way,  but  shook  their  heads  gravely  and  said, 
"  Joe  does  not  often  make  a  serious  mistake." 

Will  Gray  was,  no  doubt,  the  most  successful 
farmer  next  to  Joe,  and  even  he  had  not  been  able 
to  see  why  Joe  should  be  so  discouraged. 

Joe  explained,  "I  took  great  pains  and  did  every- 
thing I  thought  ought  to  be  done  in  preparing  my 
land  for  this  planting  and  the  cotton  came  up  beau- 
tifully, but  now  the  stand  is  broken  everywhere. 
You  can  find  a  number  of  places  in  some  rows  where 
nearly  every  plant  is  dead  or  sickly  over  a  distance 
of  a  hundred  feet." 

"  You  are  grumbling  over  spilled  milk,  Joe/'  said 
Will. 

Just  then  Bill  Green,  who  lived  near  the  old  bridge 
on  a  knoll  on  the  south  bank  of  Clear  Creek,  came 
along  the  road  and  heard  the  conversation.  Bill 


128  FARM   SPIES 

was  born  and  reared  where  he  lived  and,  being  over 
seventy  years  old,  felt  that  he  knew  everything  that 
could  be  known  about  the  country  around  there. 
He  said  to  Joe,  "  I  hev'  seen  it  afore  and  it  come  all 
right  ag'in." 

Joe  replied,  "I  had  just  a  little  of  it  last  season, 
but  what  there  was  of  it  did  not  come  all  right 
again.  The  little  cotton  died  and  stayed  dead. 
This  year  much  of  the  cotton  looks  sickly  just  like 
that  last  year,  and  I  am  satisfied  that  it  is  going  to 
die/' 

Bill  did  not  like  Joe's  reply,  and  with  an  air  of 
wisdom  told  Joe  that  it  was  the  moon.  "When the 
moon  changes  the  cotton  will  grow,  and  you  will 
make  your  crop  all  right,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Gardner  hesitated,  not  that  Mr.  Green's 
answer  satisfied  him,  but  he  was  big  enough  to 
know  that  the  ways  of  nature  are  often  beyond 
understanding  and  that  even  the  wisest  and  oldest 
men  are  often  unable  to  foresee  what  the  results 
may  be. 

Sam  Drake  came  along  the  road,  stopped,  and 
joined  in  the  discussion.  After  the  situation  had 
been  explained  to  him  he  looked  at  the  cotton  care- 
fully with,  what  he  proudly  believed,  knowing  eyes. 
After  wrinkling  his  forehead  for  a  while,  he  turned  to 
Joe  and  said  :  "  You  made  a  mistake  ;  I  done  knew  hit 
and  said  hit  when  I  come  down  the  road  a  couple 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  129 

weeks  ago  and  seen  you  a-plantin'.  I  had  all  my 
land  ready  to  plant,  but  I  didn't,  because  the  signs 
weren't  right.  You  planted  by  the  dark  of  the 
moon  and  you  shouldn't  have  done  it.  That  is 
what  I  say." 

Joe  answered  that  he  did  not  believe  that  to  be 
the  cause  of  the  cotton's  dying. 

"Hold  on  here,  Joe,"  Bill  interrupted,  very  much 
vexed  that  a  youngster  like  Joe  should  reject  the 
decision  of  his  old  neighbors;  "you  are  going  al- 
together too  fast ;  you  are  exceedin'  the  speed- 
limit  ;  me  and  Sam  here  are  old  farmers  and  remem- 
ber the  day  you  was  born.  We  have  lived  here  all 
our  lives,  and  if  we  don't  know  this  country  then  I 
would  like  to  know  who  does.  Me  and  Sam  have 
grown  as  much  as  forty  acres  of  cotton  a  year,  and 
we  always  had  enough  cotton  to  sell  that  we  could 
buy  all  the  corn  for  meal  and  we  made  our  own  bacon. 
You  are  but  a  young  feller  and  have  a  heap  to  learn 

yet." 

Joe  replied,  "I  want  more  than  a  little  corn  bread 
and  bacon  if  I  stay  on  the  farm.  Then  I  don't  care 
how  old  you  men  are  or  how  long  you  have  lived  here, 
I  do  not  believe  that  the  moon  has  anything  what- 
ever to  do  with  this  cotton's  dying.  There  is  some 
good  reason  for  it,  and  I  am  going  to  find  out  if  I 


can." 


When  Bill  and  Sam  drove  on  they  did  not  look  as 


130  FARM   SPIES 

if  they  were  laughing,  and  Joe,  paying  no  further 
attention  to  them,  started  for  the  home  of  George 
Elliott,  the  farm  demonstration  agent,  and  told 
him  the  trouble.  Joe  knew  that  Sam  and  Bill  did 
not  think  very  highly  of  the  demonstration  agent, 
" Because,"  they  said,  "that  fellow  is  too  young  to 
tell  us  old  farmers  anything.  We  knew  him  when  he 
was  a  little  shaver  going  to  the  old  field  school  down 
by  the  crossroads.  He  has  lived  here  all  the  time, 
except  for  a  short  time  when  he  was  to  what  people 
call  college.  No,  siree,  Georgie  has  to  wait  a  while 
before  he  can  teach  us  anything  about  farming." 

Joe  knew  that  the  demonstration  agent  did  not 
presume  to  know  everything,  but  he  said  to  himself, 
"He  always  has  a  way  of  finding  out  when  he  does 
not  know." 

The  farm  demonstrator  went  to  the  fields  and 
examined  the  cotton  and  said,  "I  do  not  know  what 
the  trouble  is,  Joe,  but  I  will  send  some  of  those 
plants  to  the  State  agent  at  the  agricultural  college, 
who  will  have  one  of  the  experts  examine  it." 

Some  of  the  older  men  who  heard  what  the  demon- 
strator said  looked  at  each  other  with  a  wise  smile 
and  remarked,  "Didn't  I  tell  you;  that  demon- 
strator does  not  know.  He  planted  by  the  dark  of 
the  moon ;  that  is  the  trouble,  ahem  !  " 

Mr.  Elliott  wrote  his  letter  and  sent  the  plants,  and 
a  few  days  later  he  received  a  report  that  the  plants 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  131 

had  been  examined  and  that  the  experts  found  them 
attacked  by  foot-aphids  and  that  one  of  the  experts 
would  be  at  the  farm  of  Joe  Gardner  and  would 
advise  any  one  interested  what  to  do. 

The  man  who  came  there  was  an  entomologist; 
that  is,  he  was  a  man  who  made  a  study  of  insects. 
Early  on  that  Wednesday  morning  many  farmers, 
old  and  young,  came  to  hear  what  the  entomologist 
had  to  say.  When  they  first  saw  him,  many  of  the 
older  men  were  very  much  disappointed  because  he 
appeared  so  young.  The  young  entomologist  care- 
fully examined  the  plants.  When  he  could  find 
nothing  on  the  leaves  and  stalks  he  took  a  trowel 
and  drove  it  into  the  ground  and  lifted  the  plant 
out,  roots  and  all,  together  with  the  soil  about  the 
roots.  After  he  had  scratched  the  earth  away  from 
the  roots  with  great  care,  they  saw  many  little 
bluish,  soft-bodied,  sucking  insects.  "What  are 
they?"  several  of  them  exclaimed  with  surprise. 
"We  never  saw  such  bugs  on  the  roots  of  cotton," 
others  said. 

"That  is,  no  doubt,  correct,"  the  entomologist 
answered. 

Another  farmer  exclaimed,  "My  cotton  is  dying 
the  same  way,  and  I  have  examined  the  roots  of 
many  of  the  plants,  but  I  don't  find  any  of  these 
bugs,  so  I  know  that  this  is  not  the  trouble  with  my 
cotton." 


132 


FARM   SPIES 


"  Did  you  dig  up  your  plants  as  I  did  this  one  ?  "  the 
entomologist  asked. 

"Why,  no/'  answered  the  man,  "I  did  not  take 
time  to  dig  them  up ;  I  just  pulled  them  up,  ex- 
amined them,  and  had  done  with  it." 

The  entomologist  replied.   "That  is  very  likely 
the  reason  that  you  did  not  discover 
these  bugs  when  you  examined  the 
plants.      These    insects    are    cotton 
root-aphids,    or   what    some    people 
call  root-lice.      They   occur  mainly 
on  the   small  feeding  roots  as  you 
will  notice  when  you  look    at  this 
plant  which  I  have  dug  up.     You 
see  they  have  their  beaks  fastened 
in  the  tissues,  and   when   you  pull 
up  a  cotton  plant  the  little  feeding 
roots  are  torn  off,  leaving  the  aphids 
in  the  ground.    When  a  few  occur  on 
the  main  stem  they  will  be  pulled 
off  when  the  plant  is  drawn  through 
the  soil  to  the  surface.      If,  therefore,  you  pull  a 
plant  instead  of  digging  it  up,  you  may  not  see  the 
aphids,  then  you  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
roots  are  clean.     In  the  way  I  lifted  the  plant  from 
the  soil,  the  roots  are  retained  by  the  plant  and 
will  bring  the  aphids  to  view  if  there  are  any." 
At  this  time  Jake  Wheeler  relieved  his  mouth  of 


FIG.  54.  — "These 
insects  are  cot- 
ton  root- 
aphids." 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE 


133 


a  load  of  tobacco  juice  which  he  had  let  uncon- 
sciously accumulate  while  listening  to  the  entomolo- 
gist, and  approaching  Bill  Green,  said  in  an  under- 
tone which  was  almost  a  whisper,  "Say,  Bill,  I 
believe  that  young  fellow  knows 
what  he  is  talking  about." 

Bill,  who  had  been  watching 
and  listening  with  interest  to 
what  the  entomologist  said 
and  did,  removed  his  corn-cob 
pipe  from  his  mouth  long 
enough  to  reply,  "He  sure 
does,  Jake.  In  them  good 
clothes,  and  appearin'  young- 
like,  he  looked  like  one  of  them 
city  fellers,  but  he  sure  talks 
so  we  can  understand  him.  He 
sure  does." 

Joe,  who  had  become  greatly 
interested  in  what  the  young 
entomologist  had  said,  asked, 
"  How  in  the  world  did  all  these 
aphids  get  there  so  early  in  the 
season  ?  They  certainly  could  not  have  been  there 
during  the  winter  because  there  was  nothing  green 
on  the  fields." 

:'The  habits  of  these  aphids  are  quite  well  un- 
derstood,"   the    entomologist    started    to   explain; 


FIG.  55.  —  "How  in  the 
world  did  all  these 
aphids  get  there  so  early 
in  the  season?" 


134  FARM   SPIES 

"entomologists  have  worked  on  what  we  believe  to 
be  the  same  kind  of  aphid  for  many  years.  Some 
get  to  the  cotton  by  flying,  as  a  certain  number  of 
them  get  wings.  Most  of  them  are  carried  by  the 
little  ants  that  you  see  so  abundantly  here  on  the 
ground." 

"Carry  them  there!  carry  nothing ! "  exclaimed 
old  Jack  Terrell. 

"Don't  carry  them  there?  What  makes  you  say 
that  ?  "  the  entomologist  asked. 

"They  eat  them,  and  that  is  just  what  these 
ants  are  good  for/7  Jack  answered.  "If  it  wasn't 
for  those  ants  these  little  bugs  would  not  let  us 
grow  a  single  stalk  of  cotton." 

"Have  you  ever  seen  an  ant  actually  eat  an  aphid, 
or,  have  you  at  any  time  seen  an  ant  eat  an  aphid 
anywhere?"  asked  the  entomologist. 

"No-o-o,"  Jack  replied  hesitatingly,  as  though  by 
reflecting  he  must  recall  having  seen  it;  "but,"  he 
continued,  "I  have  seen  the  ants  have  these  lice  in 
their  jaws  and  that  is  enough,  is  it  not?  The  ants 
eat  the  lice  or  aphids  as  you  call  them,  and  that  is 
what  I  say." 

"No  doubt  you  have  seen  them  between  the  jaws 
of  the  ants,  but  if  you  had  watched  them  long 
enough  your  conclusion  would  have  been  an  en- 
tirely different  one.  Had  you  watched  long  enough 
you  would  have  found  the  ants,  which  you  believed 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  135 

were  eating  the  aphids,  in  the  act  of  carrying  them 
to  some  desirable  food  plant.  They  were  not  eating 
the  aphids,  but  they  were  merely  transferring  them 
from  a  poor  food-plant  or  from  their  burrows  to 
another  or  better  food-plant,  just  as  the  mother  cat 
carries  her  kittens  from  one  place  to  another." 

Jack  stood  and  stared  at  the  entomologist,  with 
his  mouth  wide  open.  Then  the  entire  group  of 
farmers  burst  into  a  laugh  which  angered  him. 

"Piffle,"  he  exclaimed.  "Nonsense  !  I  have  been 
farming  all  my  life  and  you  can't  make  me  believe 
such  a  fool  thing  as  that."  Thereupon  he  turned  on 
his  heels  and  went  straight  home.  Just  what  he 
said  when  he  arrived  home  no  one  has  been  able  to 
find  out  exactly. 

The  entomologist  looked  serious,  and  did  not  know 
what  to  think  of  such  a  performance,  when  Joe 
turned  to  him  and  said,  "Don't  mind  him,  because 
when  he  has  a  notion  you  nor  anybody  else  could 
get  him  away  from  it.  Go  on  and  tell  us  more  about 
the  ants  and  aphids.  What  object  has  the  ant  in 
being  so  plagued  hospitable  to  the  aphids?" 

The  entomologist  continued :  "  This  question  of 
ants  attending  aphids  is  an  old  one  and  is  quite  well 
understood,  not  only  in  regard  to  these  particular 
ants  but  with  others  as  well.  These  are  known  as 
the  corn  or  cotton-field  ants  because  they  are  so 
common  and  so  well  known  to  everybody.  They 


136  FARM   SPIES 

are  so  much  interested  because  they  enjoy  eating 
the  sweet  liquid  or  honey-dew  made  by  the  aphids. 
The  ant  does  not  require  this  honey-dew  because  it 
has  been  shown  that  she  can  live  without  it,  but  the 
ant  loves  it  just  as  a  boy  loves  ice-cream  or  the  mos- 
quito loves  blood.  The  ant  is  willing  to  put  itself  to 
a  great  deal  of  trouble  attending  the  aphids  in  order 
to  get  the  honey-dew." 

Joe  asked,  "You  say  that  the  aphids  are  carried 
there  by  ants,  and  when  the  plant  upon  which  they 
feed  fails  they  carry  the  aphids  to  other  and  healthier 
plants,  all  for  the  honey-dew?  " 

"That  is  correct,"  he  replied. 

"  Now,  then,"  Joe  continued,  "  this  goes  on  through- 
out the  summer  and  fall  when  it  is  warm  and  there 
are  growing  plants  on  the  field,  but  what  happens 
when  winter  comes,  when  the  plants  all  die  and  the 
ground  becomes  chilled?" 

"It  does  appear  as  if  this  might  be  a  serious  matter, 
especially  to  those  who  have  not  studied  the  ways  of 
ants,"  the  entomologist  replied,  "but  the  ants  have 
more  foresight  than  most  people  are  willing  to  give 
them  credit  for.  The  ants  realize  that  the  aphids 
are  the  machinery  for  making  honey-dew,  and  for 
this  reason  must  be  protected.  When  the  food- 
plants  die  in  the  fall  the  ants  invite  the  aphids  to 
their  warm  burrows  of  their  own  underground  homes. 
The  aphids  never  seem  to  hesitate  in  accepting  this 


THE    COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  137 

invitation  and  the  ants  seize  them  in  their  strong 
jaws  and  carry  them  to  their  homes.  This  is  what 
Jack  Terrell  saw,  and  it  led  him  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  ants  ate  the  aphids.  In  the  underground 
homes  of  the  ants  the  aphids  are  at  ease.  Although 
ants  are  somewhat  eccentric  about  who  shall,  and 
who  shall  not,  be  allowed  the  liberties  and  pro- 
tection of  their  burrows,  yet  the  aphids  are  free  to 
visit  any  chamber.  Not  only  do  they  enjoy  free 
passes  to  go  where  they  wish,  but  the  ants  even 
show  them  every  courtesy  and  no  occupant  of  the 
ant-home  is  allowed  to  molest  them." 

"How  do  the  aphids  get  their  food  during  the 
winter,  for  they  surely  have  no  means  of  support 
in  the  ant-homes?  "  inquired  Will  Gray. 

The  entomologist  answered,  "  Nature  has  so  pro- 
vided that  during  this  period  of  indolence,  which 
lasts  from  two  to  three  weeks,  .the  aphids  can  fast. 
In  the  meantime  the  ants  are  very  active,  scouting 
the  field  in  every  direction  in  search  of  desirable 
food-plants,  principally  life-everlasting,  and  as  soon 
as  these  are  located  small  channels  or  galleries  are 
constructed  about  the  tender  roots ;  the  burrows 
around  the  roots  of  life-everlasting  are  then  con- 
nected with  the  channels  of  the  ant  homes  by  under- 
ground passages,  and  they  transfer  the  aphids  to 
these  tender  roots  undisturbed  by  frosty  air  and 
biting  winds.  The  aphids  immediately  insert  their 


138 


FARM   SPIES 


\ 


beaks  into  the  roots  to  satisfy  their  hunger,  at  the 
same  time  making  delicious  honey-dew  which  they 
yield  to  the  ants  willingly  in  pay  for  coming  between 
them  and  destruction  at  the  approach  of  winter. 
In  most  cases  this  arrangement  provides  sufficient 
food  until  the  spring  plants  appear  again." 

Joe  had  become  excited.    "In  the  spring  the  ants 

carry  the  aphids  to  the 
young  plants  as  they 
come  up,  do  they?"  he 
asked. 

"Well,  yes,  but  there 
is  a  faster  way,"  the  ento- 
mologist explained .  "Na- 
ture has  so  endowed  the 
aphids  that  in  the  spring 
when  the  winter  food- 
plants  fail  in  their  sup- 
ply of  sap,  the  little  wing- 


\. 


(After  Forbes.) 
FIG.  56.  —  "The  little  wingless 

less  creatures  produce  a 

large  number  of  winged  individuals,  which,  driven 
by  impulse,  leave  the  homes  of  their  protectors  and 
fly  through  the  air  in  every  direction  in  search  of 
the  sweet  juice  of  the  young  cotton  plants." 

"How  in  the  world  do  the  ants  find  the  aphids 
again  after  they  let  them  fly  away  ? ' '  Sam  Drake  asked. 

"I  was  just  going  to  tell  you  about  that,"  the 
entomologist  replied.  "It  seems  that  even  before 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  139 

the  aphids  acquire  wings  the  ants  foresee  what  is 
coming,  and  are  very  active  in  the  cotton-fields. 
By  the  time  the  aphids  reach  the  fields  the  ants  are 
there  to  receive  them.  The  little  rogues  have  al- 
ready finished  the  tunnels,  and,  running  in  every 
direction,  they  discover  the  aphids  and  carry  them 
to  the  roots  of  the  young  cotton  through  the  tunnels 
made  for-  that  purpose.  Here  the  aphids  find  plenty 
of  food  and  are  soon 
surrounded  by  little 
family  groups." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said 
Joe  Gardner,  "this  is  a 
treat.  I  never  knew 
that  these  little  bugs  (After  Forbes.) 

Were     SO     Wise.        Could     FIG.  57.  — "And  fly  through  the  air 

in  every  direction. 

you    tell    us    what    we 

might  do  to  prevent  them  from  killing  our  young 
cotton  ?  There  are  plenty  of  other  plants  here  to 
which  they  are  welcome.  They  can  have  my  whole 
wood-lot  pasture  over  there  and  I  would  watch  them 
work  whenever  I  had  time.  They  are  cute  and 
hard  working  little  fellows  and  they  are  welcome  to 
live  on  my  farm,  but  I  cannot  let  them  have 
my  cotton  merely  to  satisfy  their  thirsty  little 
throats  for  honey-dew." 

"Put  something  in  the  fertilizer,"  exclaimed  Will 
Gray.    "  Can't  you  do  that  ?  " 


140  FARM   SPIES 

"That  is  the  same  old  question  asked  over  and 
over  again  until  it  is  almost  worn  out.  We  have 
tried  everything  we  could  think  of,  hoping  that  we 
might  be  able  to  kill  them  in  the  soil  or  drive  them 
away  from  the  plants.  Among  the  many  things  ex- 
perimented with  none  has  so  far  proven  effective. 
We  have  made  up  our  minds  that  the  only  remedy 
so  far  known  is  hard  sensible  farming.  That,  we 
know,  does  control  them. 

"The  first  step  is  to  keep. the  aphids  off  the 
field  for  at  least  one  year,  or,  in  other  words,  drive 
them  away  from  the  field." 

"How  can  you  do  that?"  several  exclaimed. 

The  entomologist  continued:  "We  have  studied 
the  food-plants  and  we  know  quite  well  on  which 
plants  the  aphids  can  live  and  also  those  on  which 
they  cannot  live.  For  this  reason  we  keep  their 
food-plants  off  the  field  which  is  to  be  planted  in 
cotton ;  this  forces  them  to  leave  and  allows  the 
cotton  to  get  a  good  start  before  enough  aphids  can 
be  brought  back  to  harm  the  plants.  It  will  never 
do  to  let  your  land,  on  which  you  wish  to  plant 
cotton,  lie  idle  during  the  winter,  because  that  gives 
the  wild  food-plants  a  chance  to  grow  on  such  land, 
and  I  have  already  explained  to  you  how  well  the 
ants  know  how  to  make  use  of  them." 

"What  are  some  of  those  wild  food-plants  you 
are  talking  about?"  several  farmers  asked. 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE 


141 


"There  are  a  number,  but  the  plants  known  as 
life-everlasting  are  the  most  important.  There  is 
one,"  and  the  entomologist  pointed  to  a  plant  on 
the  ground. 


FIG.  58.  —  "Life-everlasting  are  the  most  important." 

"What  are  some  of  the  plants  on  which  they  can- 
not live?"  they  asked. 

"Among  our  farm  crops  are  oats,  rye,  barley, 
wheat,  vetch,  clover,  and  peas,  and  these  are  all 
plants  which  you  know  well  and  which  you  are 
growing  on  your  farms,"  the  entomologist  explained. 
"When  you  plant  a  heavy  cover-crop  of  one  of  the 


142  FARM  SPIES 

plants  on  which  the  aphids  cannot  feed,  the  weeds 
have  little  chance  to  grow  during  the  winter.  They 
are  cleaning  crops  because  they  clean  the  fields  of 
weeds  and  aphids.  Many  farmers  call  them  cover- 
crops  because  they  will  take  up  the  plant-food  and 
hold  it  so  it  cannot  waste  during  the  winter ;  they 


FIG.  59.  —  "The  weeds  have  little  chance  to  grow  during  the  winter." 

also  hold  the  soil-moisture  and  keep  the  soil  from 
washing  during  heavy  rains.  You  can  see  how 
important  it  is  to  use  these  cover-crops  even  when 
you  have  no  aphids.  Let  us  take,  for  example,  this 
farm  on  which  Mr.  Gardner  grows  cotton,  corn,  and 
oats  as  the  main  crops.  Oats  planted  in  the  fall 
keep  down  the  weeds  during  the  winter,  and  since 


THE   COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  143 

the  aphids  dp  not  feed  on  oats,  the  ants  would  not 
care  to  keep  them  there  just  to  starve.  If  the  ants 
figure  on  getting  into  the  field  after  the  oats  are 
harvested  they  are  badly  mistaken,  because  the  oats 
are  followed  by  cowpeas,  which  is  not  a  food-plant 
for  the  aphids.  To  make  matters  still  worse  for  the 
ants  and  aphids,  you  follow  the  cowpeas  with  oats, 
rye,  vetch,  or  clover  for  winter  cover;  as  none  of 
these  is  a  food-plant  there  will  be  few  aphids  on 
that  field  by  spring.  Then  is  the  time  to  plant  the 
field  in  cotton." 

"Why  not  plant  that  field  in  corn?"  one  farmer 
asked. 

"Because,"  answered  the  entomologist,  "there  is 
no  crop  on  the  farm  that  suffers  so  much  from  these 
aphids  as  cotton,  and  for  that  reason  you  should 
give  cotton  the  first  chance  after  the  field  is  clean." 

"In  regard  to  cultivation,"  the  entomologist 
continued,  "as  soon  as  the  cotton  is  large  enough, 
begin  and  give  it  frequent  shallow  cultivation  until 
the  plants  have  a  good  start.  This  cultivation  nettles 
the  ants  very  much  because  they  do  not  go  by  sight 
as  you  or  I  do,  but  they  seem  to  go  from  one  place 
to  another  by  following  trails  made  before.  Just 
think,  Mr.  Gardner,  if  you  were  an  ant  and  wished 
to  go  home  you  would  have  to  follow  some  trail 
you  made  when  you  came  to  the  field  before,  instead 
of  looking  and  seeing  your  house  and  then  walking 


144  FARM   SPIES 

f 

to  it.  Should  anything  have  destroyed  the  trail 
you  would  lose  your  way  and  be  as  much  nettled 
as  the  ant.  There  !  watch  that  ant  crossing  from 
one  row  to  the  other/ '  he  said,  pointing  to  an  ant 
crawling  on  the  soil;  "she  does  not  go  in  a  straight 
line  and  doesn't  it  look  as  if  she  is  following  an  old 
trail  ?  Let  us  see  if  there  is  any  sense  in  my  thinking 
so."  The  entomologist  then  rubbed  his  fingers  over 
the  ground  in  front  of  the  ant,  and  sure  enough, 
when  she  came  to  his  finger-mark  she  stopped  and 
was  vexed. 

"Now,"  continued  the  entomologist,  "think  of 
a  harrow  or  some  other  shallow  tool  going  through 
this  row,  how  it  must  confuse  the  ants  and  how  im- 
possible it  must  then  be  for  them  to  care  for  the 
aphids.  I  have  often  thought  how  the  ants  must 
smile  when  a  farmer  does  not  cultivate  as  he  should. 
To  control  this  aphid  is  a  case  of  humbugging  an 
ant.  The  best  way  is  to  rotate  crops  intelligently, 
and  to  give  thorough  shallow  cultivation  when  the 
plants  are  young." 

It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon  and  the  people 
started  for  their  homes. 

Since  this  meeting  in  Joe  Gardner's  cotton-field 
many  of  the  farmers  of  that  section  have  greatly 
improved  their  lands  by  intelligently  rotating  the 
crops  and  giving  cotton  rapid  shallow  cultivation 
when  it  is  young.  George  Elliott,  the  county  demon- 


THE    COTTON   ROOT-LOUSE  145 

stration  agent,  is  still  there,  and  he  says  that  where 
the  root-aphids  used  to  kill  the  cotton  nearly  every 
spring,  they  do  no  damage  now.  Whenever  some 
one  says  that  the  agent  is  too  young,  Joe  and  the 
other  good  farmers  always  reply,  "He  is  doing  more 
good  helping  the  farmers  of  this  county  than  any- 
body else.  It  was  he  who  got  the  entomologist  to 
come  and  tell  us  about  the  root-aphid,  and  we  now 
know  how  to  humbug  this  pest." 

Although  this  happened  many  years  ago  the  old 
bars  are  still  there,  and  whenever  Joe  passes  through 
them  going  or  coming  from  the  field  he  recalls  with 
a  smile  that  evening  when  he  stood  there  so  angry 
because  he  did  not  know  what  was  killing  his  cotton. 


WINDFALLS  OF  CORN 

MR.  GEORGE  WHITNEY  lives  in  the  foothills  in  the 
northern  part  of  South  Carolina.  He  is  now  a  very 
old  man,  but  until  he  was  seventy  years  old  he 
farmed.  His  farm  contains  one  hundred  and  forty 
acres  and  is  known  far  and  wide  as  the  Whitney 
farm.  If  you  ever  visit  that  neighborhood,  you  will 
hear  people  tell  of  the  wonderful  crops  that  were 
made  -on  that  farm  in  the  days  when  old  man  Whit- 
ney was  young. 

One  day  Frank  Sellars  and  his  father  started  in 
an  automobile  to  visit  Frank's  uncle,  who  lived  near 
Mr.  Whitney.  About  twelve  miles  from  home  one 
of  the  tires  deflated  and  they  had  to  stop  to  repair  it. 
It  happened  directly  in  front  of  Ed  Cherry's  house 
and  Ed  came  out  to  talk  to  Frank's  father.  When 
everything  was  in  readiness  to  go,  Frank's  father 
said,  "Have  you  made  good  crops  this  year,  Ed?  " 

u  Yes,  I  have  had  good  luck  this  year,"  Ed  replied. 

"Does  that  field  across  the  road  there  belong  to 
you?  "  Mr.  Sellars  asked,  looking  at  an  old  cornfield 
where  the  stubble  were  left,  at  the  same  time  crank- 
ing his  car. 

146 


WINDFALLS  OF   CORN 


147 


"No,  indeed  not/'  answered  Ed  with  disgust. 
"If  it  were  mine,  it  would  not  be  lying  there  with  all 
the  stubble  on  it ;  it  is  a  regular  breeding  cage  for 
windfalls  next  year." 

Calling  good-by,  Frank  and  his  father  drove  on. 


FIG.  60.  —  "If   it  were   mine  it  would  not  be  lying  there  with  all  the 
stubble  on  it." 


Frank  was  in  deep  thought,  and  when  they  came 
to  a  smooth  road  where  his  father  was  not  so  busy 
guiding  the  car,  he  asked,  "What  did  Ed  mean  by 
saying  that  the  stubble-field  across  the  road  from  his 
house  is  a  breeding  cage  for  windfalls  for  next  year  ?  " 

"I  don't  know/'  his  father  answered,  "I  have 
thought  about  it  and  wish  I  had  asked  him." 


148  FARM   SPIES 

Frank  continued,  "He  said  if  it  belonged  to  him 
it  would  not  be  lying  there  as  it  is.  It  is  nearly 
Christmas  time.  What  do  you  suppose  Ed  would 
do  to  that  field  this  time  of  the  year?" 

"I  suppose  he  meant  that  he  would  plow  it  and 
plant  something  in  it,"  Mr.  Sellars  continued,  "but 
he  talked  as  if  the  field  lying  there  the  way  it  does, 
made  it  a  breeding-cage ;  that  is  what  I  do  not 
understand." 

They  arrived  at  the  home  of  Frank's  uncle  about 
noon.  After  dinner  Frank  told  his  uncle  what  Ed 
had  said  about  the  old  corn  stubble-field  across  the 
road  from  his  house,  but  his  uncle  did  not  seem  to 
know  what  he  could  have  meant.  "In  this  section 
we  consider  it  bad  practice  to  leave  the  corn-stubble 
on  the  field  over  winter  —  in  fact  we  do  not  allow 
our_  fields  to  lie  bare  over  winter ;  we  always  put 
cover-crops  on.  We  are  satisfied  that  such  fields 
as  the  one  Ed  was  talking  about  make  vermin  for 
the  following  season,  but  I  don't  know  about  wind- 
falls. It  is  worth  while  to  think  about  it,  because 
you  know  Ed  is  a  smart  fellow  and  a  ' crack'  farmer/' 
Frank's  uncle  explained. 

Frank's  father  then  spoke  up,  saying,  "I  bet  old 
George  Whitney  knows  if  anybody  around  here 
does." 

"He  very  likely  does,  but  whether  he  would  tell 
us  or  not  is  another  question,"  said  Frank's  uncle 


WINDFALLS   OF   CORN  149 

with  a  smile.  "You  know  he  is  a  peculiar  man/' 
he  added. 

"Frank/'  said  his  father,  "you  can  go  and  ask 
Mr.  Whitney,  if  you  want  to." 

"All  right/' Frank  answered,  and  started  down  the 
road  to  Mr.  Whitney's  home. 

Frank's  father  and  his  uncle  sat  on  the  front  porch 
watching  Frank  going  down  the  road.  Frank's 
uncle  said,  "I  am  not  sure  whether  the  old  man  will 
answer  his  questions ;  let  me  see,  Frank  is  twelve 
years  old  now  and  Mr.  Whitney  has  never  been 
much  of  a  man  with  boys.  There  is  no  better  farmer 
for  miles,  and  he  would  do  anything  for  you  in 
trouble,  but  he  is  peculiar.  When  you  ask  him  a 
question  he  may  answer  it  or  he  may  not,  or  he  may 
give  you  a  good  scolding.  He  and  I  are  good  friends, 
and  when  he  finds  out  that  Frank  is  my  nephew,  he 
may  be  real  nice  to  him."  Mr.  Sellars  wondered 
how  this  visit  might  come  out. 

Frank  was  a  bright,  cheerful,  winning  boy,  with 
a  smile  for  every  one  he  met.  When  he  arrived  at 
Mr.  Whitney's  home  a  large  collie  came  running 
towards  him,  barkjng ;  he  spoke  to  the  animal  and 
they  became  friends  immediately.  Mr.  Whitney 
was  sitting  on  a  chopping-block  under  the  lean-to  of 
the  old  barn. 

"Good  evening;  is  this  Mr.  Whitney?"  Frank 
said. 


150  FARM  SPIES 

"That  is  who  I  be,  sonny,"  he  answered,  and  his 
look  betrayed  his  curiosity  as  to  who  that  boy 
might  be. 

The  boy  spoke  again :  "  That  is  a  lovely  big  dog 
you  have,  Mr.  Whitney.  I  like  dogs  and  he  is  about 
the  finest  fellow  I  ever  saw." 

The  frankness  with  which  this  was  said  pleased 
the  old  man,  and  he  became  interested  in  his  young 
visitor.  "Yes,"  the  old  man  explained,  "he  is  all 
you  say ;  I  raised  him  myself ;  he  was  born  in  that 
old  kennel  you  see  over  there  under  that  tree.  His 
mother  came  from  South  Carolina  and  was  as  fine 
a  dog  as  you  or  anybody  else  ever  saw.  What  may 
be  your  name,  sonny?  " 

"My  name  is  Frank  Sellars  and  my  father  and  I 
are  visiting  Fred  Collins.  Mr.  Collins  is  my  uncle," 
said  Frank,  wondering  in  the  meantime  what  the  old 
gentleman  meant  by  saying  that  the  dog  came  from 
South  Carolina,  the  State  in  which  he  was  now 
living. 

"So  you  be  visitin'  your  uncle  Fred  Collins. 
Well,  Fred  is  a  mighty  fine  man  and  a  good  neighbor. 
Have  a  seat,  sonny.  Git  that  box  leanin'  thar 
against  the  tree  and  bring  it  over  here  and  set  down." 

When  Frank  went  for  the  box  he  could  but  admire 
the  tall  and  stately  elm  against  which  the  box  leaned. 
When  he  came  back  he  said,  "What  a  beautiful  elm 
that  is,  Mr.  Whitney.  There  are  none  prettier  on 


WINDFALLS   OF   CORN  151 

the  Capitol  grounds  at  Washington.     I  looked  at 
them  last  summer  when  we  were  visiting  there." 

Mr. .  Whitney  looked  at  him  and  remarked,  "So 
you    visited    Washington ;    that    must    have    been 


nice." 


"Yes,  it  was/'  said  Frank,  "and  we  also  had  a 
boat  ride  to  Mt.  Vernon,  where  we  visited  the  tomb 
of  Washington." 

"Visited  what?"  Mr.  Whitney  asked  quickly. 

"The  tomb  of  Washington  ;  Washington's  grave." 
Frank  repeated. 

"Well,  well,  well,  why  that  is  news  to  me.  I  did 
not  know  he  was  dead.  When  did  he  die?  " 

Frank,  not  sure  whether  this  was  ignorance  or 
second  childhood,  answered  hesitatingly,  "Why, 
Mr.  Whitney,  he  has  been  dead  a  long  time." 

"That  is  strange,"  the  old  man  replied,  "I  saw  a 
paper  only  about  a  month  ago  and  it  said'  that 
Washington  was  dressed  up  for  the  inauguration. 
How  came  you  to  visit  him ;  do  you  know  him?" 

"We  visited  Uncle  John;  he  is  a  congressman," 
Frank  replied. 

"So  be  I!"  Mr.  Whitney  asserted  emphatically, 
hitting  his  right  knee  with  his  fist.  "  I  am  a  congress- 
man and  a  Wilson  man.  Them  two  are  the  biggest 
men  who  ever  lived.  Even  the  Americans  say  so." 

Frank  thought  to  himself,  "Mr.  Whitney  may  be 
a  very  good  farmer,  that  is,  he  may  know  how  to 


152  FARM   SPIES 

make  good  crops,  but  I  would  call  him  a  very  ignorant 
man."  He  wondered  whether  there  would  be  any 
use  to  ask  him  about  what  Ed  had  said. 

Like  every  boy,  Frank  was  never  at  a  loss  for  words 
nor  schemes  for  getting  what  he  wanted. 

"Mr.  Whitney/'  he  said,  "you  have  a  very  nice 
farm.  How  many  acres  are  in  it?" 

"One  hundred  and  forty/'  Mr.  Whitney  replied 
promptly.  He  said  nothing  more,  and  Frank  saw 
that  a  few  more  well-planned  questions  might  lead 
to  the  one  he  wished  to  ask. 

"You  know,  Mr.  Whitney,"  Frank  continued, 
"when  father  and  I  came  down  the  road  this  morn- 
ing we  saw  several  cornfields  that  had  the  stubble 
left  on  them.  I  do  not  see  any  fields  like  that  on  your 
farm." 

"Of  course  you  don't;  I  never  allow  it."  Mr. 
Whitney  said  curtly. 

"I  have  to  keep  on  asking  questions  to  get  him 
to  talk,"  Frank  thought.  "  There  was  a  corn  stubble- 
field  across  the  road  from  Mr.  Ed  Cherry's  place  and 
if  nothing  is  done  don't  you  think  it  will  breed 
windfalls?"  Frank  asked  this  question  not  knowing 
what  he  meant  by  it,  but  he  thought  it  would  at 
least  bring  him  nearer  to  the  question  he  wished 
answered. 

"Yes,  it  will;  yes,  it  will,"  the  old  man  managed 
to  say,  but  not  another  word. 


WINDFALLS   OF   CORN  153 

"He  surely  is  a  hard  man  to  get  started,  but  I 
am  going  to  try  again/7  he  said  to  himself. 

"Isn't  it  funny,  Mr.  Whitney,  that  old  stubble 
left  on  the  field  during  the  winter  breeds  wind- 
falls ?"  Frank  asked  again. 

"Not  at  all,  sonny,  not  funny  at  all  when  you 
understand  it,"  and  again  he  stopped. 

"I  do  not  understand  it,  Mr.  Whitney,"  Frank 


FIG.  61.  —  "It  is  a   worm   that  stays  in   the   bottom  of   the    stubble 
during  the  winter." 

replied;    "is  it  a  disease  that  breeds  in  the  stubble, 
do  you  suppose?  " 

"I  suppose  nothing  about  it,  sonny,"  Mr.  Whitney 
replied.  "  I  know  what  it  is.  It  is  a  worm  that  stays 
in  the  bottom  of  the  stubble  throughout  the  winter, 
and  in  the  spring  a  candle-fly  comes  from  it.  In 
the  spring  after  the  corn  has  a  good  start  these 
candle-flies  lay  their  eggs  on  it,  and  from  these  eggs 
come  the  worms  that  bore  into  the  corn-stalks. 


154  F ARM   SPIES       , 

This,  sonny,  weakens  them,  and  during  heavy  winds, 
or  even  rains,  in  July,  the  stalks  break  down  and 
the  farmers  call  them  windfalls." 

Frank  looked  at  the  old  man  with  admiration. 
"Though  short,  it  is  one  of  the  best  speeches  I  ever 
listened  to  in  my  life,"  he  said  to  himself.  Just  a 
moment  ago  Frank  had  regarded  him  as  the  most 
ignorant  man  he  had  ever  met,  and  yet  he  could  in 
a  few  well-framed  sentences  tell  what  his  father  and 
uncle  did  not  know.  Mr.  Whitney  had  now  become 
talkative,  and  he  told  Frank  many  things  about 
farming  that  he  had  never  known  and  which  he 
felt  few  people  knew.  This  mountaineer,  so  igno- 
rant about  the  country  in  which  he  lived,  surely 
understood  better  than  anyone  else  in  that  section 
how  to  make  crops. 

Before  leaving,  Frank  said,  "Mr.  Whitney,  if  I 
knew  as  much  about  farming  as  you,  I  would  farm 
all  my  life." 

"Sonny,"  said  the  old  man,  patting  him  on  the 
head,  "and  if  I  knew  as  much  as  you  know  now  I 
would  be  twice  as  good  a  farmer."  Frank  stared 
at  him  surprised,  but  the  old  man  continued:  "I 
am  an  ignorant  old  man,  while  you  are  young 
and  have  life  and  opportunities  before  you.  When 
I  was  a  boy  of  your  age  I  had  no  chances  to  get 
an  education.  I  am  making  a  living  and  pay  my 
honest  debts,  but  I  am  too  ignorant  to  enjoy  life. 


WINDFALLS   OF   CORN  155 

My  two  boys  went  to  college  and  I  know  what  I 
missed." 

Frank  went  down  the  road  to  his  uncle's  home  in 
deep  study.  He  told  his  father  and  uncle  everything 
Mr.  Whitney  had  said.  When  he  retired  to  his  bed 
that  night  he  repeated  to  himself,  "And  I  thought 
that  he  was  an  ignorant  man." 

When  Frank  woke  up  the  next  morning  he  knew 
that  he  had  been  dreaming  about  candle-flies.  He 
dreamt  that  he  had  been  in  the  field  across  the  road 
from  Mr.  Ed  Cherry's  house  pulling  up  corn-stubble, 
and  that  in  the  bottom  of  nearly  every  root  he  had 
found  a  worm.  "That  was  a  funny  dream/'  he  said. 

After  breakfast  he  told  his  father  that  he  was 
willing  to  give  everything  Santa  would  bring  him 
if  he  could  go  into  the  stubble-field  he  dreamt  about, 
and  examine  the  roots.  "I  don't  see  any  stubble- 
fields  around  here,"  he  said. 

Uncle  Fred  down  by  the  shed  had  heard  Frank, 
and  called,  "No,  Frank,  you  won't  see  any  near 
here  because  Mr.  Whitney  has  folks  trained  around 
here  not  to  allow  stubble  on  the  fields  during  the 
winter,  but  Sam  Hoyt  down  by  the  river  takes  no 
notice  of  it,  and  if  you  go  to  his  place  he  will  show 
you  all  the  stubble  you  want  to  see.  Sam  is  a  nice 
fellow,  but  he  does  not  believe  what  Mr.  Whitney 
says  about  the  stubble  causing  windfalls.  If  you 
find  any  of  those  worms  on  his  place,  I  wish  you 


156  FARM   SPTES 

would  show  them  to  him,  and  maybe  he  will  then 
do  something  about  it.  His  farm  is  only  about  a 
half  mile  beyond  those  woods.  You  follow  the  main 
trail,  starting  at  the  bars,  and  when  you  come  out  at 
the  other  side  of  the  woods  you  will  see  a.white  house 
and  an  old  log-barn.  That  is  his  place." 

Frank  started,  and  soon  arrived  at  Mr.  Hoyt's 
home.  He  told  Mr.  Hoyt  his  name,  where  he  came 
from,  and  what  he  came  for. 

"Haw,  haw,  haw,  haw,"  Mr.  Hoyt  laughed.  The 
laugh  was  so  hearty  and  the  face  of  the  big  fat  man 
so  good-natured  that  before  Frank  knew  it  he  was 
laughing  with  him,  as  hard  as  he  could. 

"Sure,  you  can  examine  my  stubble,"  Mr.  Hoyt 
continued,  "but  if  you  can  find  the  windfalls  in  them, 
then  you  are  a  good  one.  You  seem  to  have  gotten 
some  of  old  man  Whitney's  notion's ;  haw,  haw, 
haw." 

Frank  and  Sam  went  to  the  field  and  pulled  the 
first  stubble  they  came  to.  Frank  split  it  with  his 
pocket-knife,  and  there  were  two  large,  yellowish 
worms  in  the  root.  ".Great  Tecumseh ! "  Mr.  Hoyt 
exclaimed,  and  stared  at  the  worms  a  long  time. 
Frank  kept  on  pulling  and  splitting  stubble,  and  in 
nearly  every  one  he  found  one  or  two  worms  and 
in  some  even  three.  He  explained  to  Mr.  Hoyt  what 
Mr.  Whitney  had  told  him  about  these  worms 
making  candle-flies,  and  Sam  answered  with  a  loud 


WINDFALLS   OF   CORN  157 

'guffaw/  and  said,  "The  old  gentleman  dreamt  that 
or  maybe  he  read  some  fool  story  somewhere." 

Frank  tied  together  all  the  stubble  he  had  pulled 
and  split  and  started  for  home.  When  he  was  almost 
in  the  center  of  the  forest  on  the  old  trail  he  suddenly 
stopped  and  said  to  himself:  "I  am  calling  these 
bugs  by  the  wrong  name.  I  remember  now  in  our 
reader  in  school  it  says  that  young  insects  are  larvae 
and  that  the  young  of  butterflies  and  moths  are 
called  caterpillars.  I  recall  that  my  teacher  told  us 
not  to  call  them  worms.  All  right,  I  am  glad  that  I 
remembered  that,  and  so  I  will  call  them  .larvae  or 
caterpillars  after  this." 

When  he  returned  he  said  to  his  father  and  uncle, 
"I  have  the  caterpillars,  or  worms,  as  Mr.  Whitney 
calls  them.  He  was  right  so  far,  and  I  am  going  to 
find  out  whether  they  will  make  candle-flies.  I  am 
going  to  bury  the  roots  of  the  stubble  in  that  old 
flower-bed  and  put  a  mosquito  net  over  them  so 
that  the  chickens  will  not  scratch  them  up." 

"I  have  a  big  box  here  with  a  wire  screen  on 
it.  I  used  to  keep  hens  in  it.  You  can  turn  that 
over  them;  it  beats  mosquito  netting,"  his  uncle 
said. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  them  when  we 
go  back  home?"  his  father  asked. 

"I  will  take  them  with  me  and  bury  them  at 
home,"  Frank  replied. 


158  FARM  SPIES 

"All  right,  I  have  window-screening  that  you  can 
use,"  his  father  said. 

When  they  started  back  home  Frank  had  his 
corn-stubble  packed  in  the  rear  of  the  car,  and  when 
he  arrived  there  he  buried  them  back  of  the  wood- 
shed. Several  days  afterwards  he  came  and  told 
his  father,  "Bringing  the  stubble  from  Uncle  Fred 
makes  me  laugh." 

"Why?"  his  father  asked. 

"Because  I  can  find  all  I  want  around  here," 
he  answered,  and  they  both 
laughed. 

(Afte7BUr.EM.,u~s.Dept.Agr.)  In  the  spring  when  the 
FIG. 62.— "He  found  a  num-  corn  was  being  planted  none 

ber  of  chrysalids."  .    ,  „. 

ol  the  caterpillars  had  changed 

to  moths,  and  this  puzzled  Frank  very  much.  At  last 
when  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  could  wait  no  longer 
he  uncovered  the  stubble  and  examined  them.  To 
his  surprise  he  found  caterpillars  in  only  a  few  of  them, 
but  after  a  somewhat  closer  examination  he  found  a 
number  of  chrysalids.  "You  know  I  scratched  my 
head  and  wondered  what  became  of  some  of  the 
caterpillars,"  he  said  to  his  father,  "but  I  understand 
it  now ;  they  are  changing  to  chrysalids  or  pupae  and 
that  means  that  they  will  soon  become  moths; 
hurrah ! " 

He  kept  on  watching,  and  when  the  corn  was  large 
enough  to  cultivate  they  had  not  yet  become  moths. 


WINDFALLS  OF   CORN  159 

He  began  to  think  that  something  was  wrong  after 
all.  "I  know  they  are  not  dead  because  they  wiggle 
just  a  little  when  I  handle  them/'  he  said. 

Corn  was  about  five  inches  high  when  his  first 
moth  came  out,  and  one  by  one  the  others  followed. 
They  were  of  a  smoky  brownish  color.  "They  must 
be  laying  on  the  corn  in  the  field  by  this  time  and 
I  am  going  to  the  field  to  see  about  it,"  Frank  said. 
He  watched  several  days ;  and,  seeing  no  moths, 
he  became  dis- 
couraged but  said 
nothing  to  anyone 
about  it. 

One  evening  after 
sundown  his  father 

asked  him   tO   get   a  (After  Bur.  Ent.,  U.S.Dept.Agr.) 

Wrench     which     he    FIG.  63.- "When  his  first  moth  came  out." 

had  left  at  the  far  end  of  the  farm.  It  was  about 
dusk,  and  Frank  walked  slowly  up  the  driveway 
to  a  certain  point,  then  crossed  the  cornfield  to 
the  place  where  the  wrench  had  been  left.  To  his 
delight  he  discovered  some  of  the  moths  hovering 
about  the  corn.  "They  are  laying  eggs  now, 
and  I  am  coming  here  to-morrow  to  watch  them," 
he  said. 

The  next  morning  he  came  early,  and  although  he 
stayed  till  noon  he  saw  not  a  single  moth.  He  went 
home  disappointed  and  told  his  father  about  it. 


160 


FARM   SPIES 


His  father  said,   "  Maybe  they  lay    their    eggs    at 
dusk  only." 

In  the  evening  Frank  went  back  to  the  corn- 
field and,  sure  enough,  the  moths  were  there.  He 
marked  the  places  on  every  stalk  where  he  had  seen 
a  moth,  and  the  next  morning  he  found  the  tiny  eggs 

on  the  leaves.  After 
a  few  days  the  eggs 
hatched  and  the  little 
caterpillars  crawled 
down  the  blades  of 
corn  into  the  bud. 
He  noticed  that  they 
ate  small  holes  into 
the  buds,  and  when 
later  those  leaves  un- 
folded there  were 
rows  of  round  or  ir- 
regular holes  across 
them. 

"I  do  not  understand  how  the  rows  of  holes  get 
in  those  leaves,"  Frank  said. 

uThat  is  quite  simple,"  his  father  answered,  and 
then  rolled  up  a  piece  of  paper  and  punched  one 
hole  through  it  with  his  lead  pencil,  and  when  he  un- 
folded the  paper  there  was  a  row  of  holes.  His 
father  then  explained,  "The  young  corn  bud  consists 
of  leaves  folded  up,  and  if  you  make  a  hole  through 


FIG.  64. —  "I  do  not  understand  how  the 
rows  of  holes  get  into  those  leaves." 


.WINDFALLS   OF   CORN 


161 


the  bud  as  the  caterpillars  do,  a  row  of  holes  will 
show  when  the  little  leaves  unfold." 

When  the  caterpillars  were  about  half  grown,  they 
left  the  bud,  traveled  down  the  stalk,  and  ate  into 
it  near  the  ground.  When  they  became  full-grown 


FIG.  65.  —  "Left  the  stalks  through  the  openings  they  had  cut." 

each  cut  a  round  opening  through  the  outer  wall  of 
the  stalk,  and  after  plugging  it  with  chewed  pith 
from  the  inside,  crawled  to  a  small  chamber  pre- 
pared in  the  pith  and  transformed  to  a  chrysalis. 
About  two  weeks  later  the  moths  came  from  the 


162  FARM   SPIES 

chrysalids  or  pupae  and  left  the  stalks  through  the 
openings  they  had  cut  and  so  carefully  plugged 
when  they  were  caterpillars. 

When  the  corn  was  tall  enough  to  tassel  and  silk> 
the  moths  laid  eggs  on  the  bottom  leaves.  The 
little  larvae  bored  into  the  stalk,  and  like  their  an- 
cestors, chewed  the  pith.  When  the  summer  winds 
were  blowing  Frank  noticed  that  many  stalks  had 
been  burrowed  so  that  they  broke  off  near  the  soil. 

"Now  I  know  what  windfalls  are.  I  wish  every 
farmer  knew  what  caused  them.7'  He  then  went  to 
his  father  and  asked,  "  Won't  the  windfalls  make 
corn?" 

"No,"  his  father  replied,  "the  milky  corn  on  the 
windfalls  sours  and  rots." 

The  larvae  kept  on  growing  in  the  fallen  stalks 
or  in  the  stubble,  and  when  winter  began,  unlike 
their  parents,  they  bored  to  the  tip  of  the  root  and 
there  they  stayed  during  the  winter,  undisturbed  by 
snow,  sleet,  or  wintry  winds.  The  following  spring 
they  changed  to  pupae,  and  two  weeks  later  the 
smoky  brown  moths  appeared  to  lay  their  eggs  on 
the  new  corn-plants. 

Frank  said  that  he  counted  as  many  as  a  dozen 
larvae  in  a  single  stalk  of  corn. 

"That  is  nothing,"  John  Drake  retorted  ;  "I  have 
seen  as  many  as  fifty  holes  in  a  stalk." 

Frank  answered,    "That   is   because   they   some- 


WINDFALLS   OF   CORN 


163 


times  come  out  of  the  stalk  and  go  in  at  another 
place;  so  there  may  often  be  more  holes  than 
larvae." 

John,  looking  at  the  larvae  Frank  had  in  his  hand, 
said  :  "Those  are  not 
the   same   kind    that 
work     in     my     corn 

during     the     Summer.    FIG.  66. —  "In    summer    and  early  fall 

They  look  different."       they  are  white  dotted  with  black'" 

Frank  explained  to  him,  "In  summer  and  early 
fall  they  are  white,  dotted  with  black,  but  when 
winter  comes  they  change  to  a  cream  yellow  color, 

and  this  leads  some  people 
to  believe  that  they  are 
different  caterpillars." 

"I  want  to  know  how 
to  kill  them,"  John  said. 
"  We  ought  to  do  as  they 
do  in  the  Whitney  sec- 
tion," said  Frank.  "All 
the  farmers  around  there 
destroy  the  corn  stubble 
in  the  fall.  They  never 
allow  them  to  stay  in  the  fields  over  winter  because 
they  say  that  they  breed  windfalls." 

"How  do  they  destroy  them,  do  you  know?" 
John  asked. 

"There    are    several    ways,"    Frank    answered. 


FIG.  67.  —  "But  when  winter 
comes  they  change  to  a  cream 
yellow." 


164  FARM  SPIES 

"Some  harvest  the  corn,  then  plow  out  stalk,  root 
and  all,  rake  it  in  heaps  and  burn.  Others  plow  out 
the  stubble,  rake  them  and  haul  them  to  the  barn- 
yard. Then  again  some  farmers  just  plow  them  up 
and  let  them  lie  on  the  surface.  Mr.  Whitney,  one 
of  the  best  farmers  living  in  that  section,  plows  his 
stubble  under  with  a  large  disk  plow  and  then  sows 
oats  and  vetch  on  the  land.  He  says  it  is  the  proper 
thing  to  do,  not  only  to  prevent  windfalls  but  to 
destroy  many  other  pests  as  well.  He  says  that  his 
way  of  sowing  the  land  for  winter  keeps  the  soil  in 
good  condition  because  it  holds  moisture  better, 
does  not  wash  away,  and  holds  the  plant-food. 
'Always  plow  your  corn  and  cotton  land  deep  in 
the  fall  and  sow  a  cover-crop.  If  you  cannot  do 
the  deep  plowing,  sow  the  cover  anyway,  and  never 
let  your  corn-stubble  stay  on  the  field.' 

"  Mr.  Whitney,  says,  '  Because  they  do  these 
things  in  the  Whitney  section  they  have  no  trouble 
with  windfalls/  The  farmers  around  there  work 
together  and  Mr.  Whitney  says  '  That  is  what 
counts/  ' 

The  following  year  all  the  farmers  in  Frank's 
neighborhood  agreed  not  to  leave  the  stubble  on 
the  cornfields  over  winter,  and  the  next  year  they 
had  very  few  windfalls. 

One  day  when  Frank  was  visiting  his  uncle  Fred, 
Mr.  Whitney  came  in  and  he  and  Frank  had  a  long 


WINDFALLS   OF   CORN  165 

conversation  about  good  farming.-  When  they 
parted  Frank'  asked  him,  "How  did  you  know  so 
much  about  the  worms  that  make  windfalls  ?" 

Mr.  Whitney  replied,  "Some  years  ago  I  got  a 
bulletin  from  Washington ;  I  studied  it  and  it  has 
helped  me  very  much." 


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Elementary  Exercises  in  Agriculture 

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Beginnings  in  Agriculture 

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Agriculture  for  Southern  Schools 

BY  JOHN  FREDERICK  DUGGAR,  M.S.,  Professor  of  Agriculture, 
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Agriculture  for  Schools  on  the  Pacific  Slope 

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The  Principles  of  Agriculture  through  the  School 
and  Home  Garden 

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Elements  of  Agriculture,  Southern  and  Western 

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Elements  of  Agriculture  assumes  that  children  are  to  some  extent  ac- 
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EVERYCHILD'S  SERIES 

Supplementary  Readers  for  Elementary  Schools 

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ALSHOUSE:         Heroes  Of  the  Nation.     For  Intermediate  and  Grammar 

Grades. 
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Legends  of  the  Age  of  Pericles. 

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The  life  and  the  traits  of  character  of  the  American 
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BENDER:  Great  Opera  Stories.     For  Intermediate  Grades. 

Famous  operas  told  in  a  simple  charming  way. 

BIRD  and  Historical  Plays  for  Children.   For  Intermediate  Grades. 

STARLING  :  Dramatized  stories  of  historical  characters. 

CALHOUN:  Book  of  Brave  Adventures.     For  Intermediate  Grades. 

The  brave  adventures  of  heroes  of  many  lands. 

CALHOUN:  When  Great  Folks  Were  Little  Folks.     For  Grammar 

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Plain  little  boys  and  girls  who  grew  up  and  accom- 
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Our  forefathers  in  the  days  of  the  Revolution. 

DICKSON:  Camp  and  Trail  in  Early  American  History.    For 

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The  early  discoverers  and  explorers  of  our  country. 

DUNN:  What  Shall  We  Play?    For  Primary  and  Intermediate 

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Dramatizations  of  a  variety  of  well-known  children  stories. 

FARMER:  Boy  and  Girl  Heroes.     For  Intermediate  Grades. 

Interesting  incidents  in  the  childhood  of  well-known 
heroes. 

GARDNER:          Nature  Stories.     For  Primary  Grades. 

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of  a  child. 


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HALLOCK: 

In  Those  Days.     For  Intermediate  Grades. 
Really  true  stories  of  Grandmother's  Day. 

HOPKINS: 

The  Knight  Of  the  Lion.     For  Intermediate  Grades. 
A  delightful  story  which  preserves  the  quaint  style  of  the 
original  French. 

LARGE: 

A  Visit  to  the  Farm.     For  Intermediate  Grades. 
The   adventures   of  a  city  boy  who  visits   his   country 
cousin. 

LARGE: 

Old  Stories  for  Young  Readers.     For  Primary  Grades. 
A  collection  of  stories  which  all  children  ought  to  read. 

OSWELL: 

Old  Time  Tales.     For  Primary  Grades. 
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A  Fairy  Book      For  Primary  Grades. 
A  collection  of  good  stories  of  fairies  and  other  little  earth 
people. 

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Stories  Grandmother  Told.  .  For  Primary  Grades. 
Old  fairy  stories  interestingly  told. 

REYNOLDS: 

How  Man  Conquered  Nature.  For  Intermediate  Grades. 
Stories  that  will  give  vitality  to  the  study  of  history  and 
geography. 

STOCKTON  : 

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A  collection  of  stirring  adventures  on  land  and  sea,  por- 
traying scenes  of  historical  and  literary  value. 

UNDERWOOD:  Heroes  of  Conquest  and  Empire.    For  Intermediate  and 
Grammar  Grades. 
Old  stones  of  famous  conquerors  told  with  freshness  and 
vigor. 

WARNER: 

Nonsense  Dialogues.     For  Primary  Grades. 
Mother  Goose  in  dramatic  form. 

WERTHNER 

:      How  Man  Makes  Markets.     For  Grammar  Grades. 
The  story  of  commerce. 

YOUNG: 

When  We  Were  Wee.     For  Intermediate  Grades. 
A  vivid  picture  of  child  life  in  war  times. 

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